Order and Chaos
by GrimReaperJr1232
Summary: For many years, the world has suffered under both the rule of order and chaos. Yaldabaoth, who rules over order with an iron fist and Nyarlathotep who has drenched the land in an eternal chaos. Caught between the two warring gods on a inevitable collision course, emerges an arrogant trickster and a Wild Card of Death.
1. Chapter 1

**Let's see, I'm burnt out on DFW, FH is a drag until Wes and I can get to the fun parts, AT rewrite will happen when it happens, the scrapbook will prolly be updated once I get my drive for DFW back, and Shadow will happen when it happens just like its cousin/brother/whatever-relation AT.**

 **Until then, might as well do this. Friend of mine who you may know (but he wouldn't like me name dropping) got me thinking about scenarios where the world is basically already fucked; a post-apocalypse if you would.**

 **So that got me thinking, what two egocentric megalomaniac gods (or at least god-tier) beings exist that would naturally despise each other that would cause the world to naturally get into an apocalypse scenario? Why, look no further than the two gods with difficult to pronounce names! Yaldabaoth (just call him Demiurge; it's a lot easier) and Nyarlathotep; the god of control and… I was gonna say Chaos, but insanity is more Nyar's thing (at least, in the Lovecraft mythos where he is one OP motherfucker, beaten only by the most powerful beings in fiction).**

 **Alright, you guys know the drill for me by now. The updates will be inconsistent, I'll respond to reviews in the AN/s, and try to prevent myself from looking like a dumbass again like a certain… incident (which I admittedly deserved).**

 **But enough of that! Let's get to the story…**

* * *

"Are you sure this is the right truck?" Joker asked, pulling on his crimson glove as he waited in an alleyway. Small pockets of snow that had collected on him fell from his black long coat when he suddenly shivered; no matter how hard he tries, he'll just never get used to this relentless winter.

"I told you a thousand times, yes!" Oracle response came from the earpiece he was wearing. Luckily for her, she and some of the others were waiting in a nice and toasty Mona-van while he was out doing this. "Noir and I have checked, doubled checked, and quadruple checked! Relax Joker, this is the right one."

"Just askin'," the raven-haired boy responded, rubbing his sleeves with his hands. "I mean, last time was—"

"Completely your fault…"

"What?! Mine?! How was—" before he could begin his diatribe, Joker heard the sound of vehicle approaching. "Never mind that, it's showtime."

Joker leaned against the wall closest to where he heard the noise coming from before pulling a handgun out of his coat. Aright, they're going to speed off the second they notice him, so he's going to have to act quickly.

It was all just another day in life of the Phantom Thief, Joker.

Before long, a large truck drove past him without any signs of changing speed. Good, no one notice him; time to act.

Joker held up his gun and took aim at the wheels. It's a good thing almost no one has a care anymore otherwise this would've been a certain disaster. Taking a deep breath, Joker opened fire on the truck.

The first few shots were either misses or they grazed the truck itself. Hopefully, none of the bullets actually damaged anything inside.

Noticing they were being fired upon, the truck began speeding up just as Akira thought it would. His window of opportunity was closing and pretty soon he was going to face the wrath of the authorities after this.

" _Time for plan B,"_ Joker thought before firing his pistol one more time, but now the bullet was being supported with unnatural winds following it.

The bullet impacted harmlessly into the truck, unable to pierce whatever armor it may have had but it didn't need to. The truck was soon met with the powerful force of the unnatural wind so strong that the truck began losing control.

Joker watched as the truck began to swirling, its driver trying desperately to escape while keeping his cargo. Unfortunately for him, there was only so much he could do. While trying to make a turn in at a corner, the high speeds combined with the loss of control and wind caused the entire vehicle to tip over and crash.

Alright, that took a little longer as planned. Now was time for step two.

Grabbing his bag that had been lying beside him, Joker rushed to the crashed truck and inspected the front. The driver and his passenger next to him (presumably to serve as some sort of guard) looked a little banged up, but it didn't look like it was anything dangerous.

Hopefully, none of them saw the little trick he had to use to knock them down and instead think he just hit something important. Yaldabaoth doesn't like executions normally, but 'special' people like him… exceptions were often made.

With that out of the way, Joker began what he came here to do and opened the back of the vehicle revealing the cargo they had been transporting. Inside were items that wouldn't seem terribly valuable in a time before he was growing up, but now were essentially priceless; inside was nothing else but various types of food from a few meats from animals that currently none of the Phantoms Thieves knew the location of, _a lot_ of canned foods, and even a few deserts surprisingly.

Once upon a time, these things were so common—at least, in the more developed regions in the world. But ever since this damn winter that's lasted for years started, food has been harder and harder to come across. Currently, the only way anyone was going to get any here was if it was allowed by their 'lord' Yaldabaoth—some god who appeared not long before he was born.

Unfortunately, Yaldabaoth was also one egotistical bastard obsessed with 'order' as he'd call it. He controls who feed what, where, and how much. It's no secret that some regions are favored than others for their 'loyalty,' but those who complain are either sent to an educational facility to 'correct' them or sent to one of the farms never to be seen again.

"Oracle," Joker told his teammate as he began filling up his bag with anything that would fit and likely wouldn't spoil within a few days, "you were right. We hit a score." He said, continuing to stuff his bag. Some canned vegetables here, some bottles of water there—the bag was quickly getting filled and there was a lot more leftover.

"Told you my and Noir's info was good." Oracle's said, without a doubt while having a huge grin on her face too. "You remember your escape route, right?"

"Don't remind me," Joker groaned, remembering exactly where he was supposed to go to escape, "did I do something to upset Queen that I don't remember?"

Joker turned around and saw a crowd of people gathering to see what all the commotion was about. It wasn't often one would have the gall to even think about robbing from Yaldabaoth, and humans were noisy and curious by nature.

Joker looked back at the large amounts of food left over. It'd be a shame if that all went to waste…

"What are you all waiting for?" Joker addressed the crowd, raising his arms slightly and taking a few steps away from the vehicle. "Go, help yourselves! There's plenty left."

There were a few brief moments of silence as people in the crowd looked at one another, considering the idea. Alas, hunger was one of the many things that make people desperate enough to try anything if it meant they might get to live another day. A few individuals started coming up first with nervous looks on their faces, but soon more and more of the crowd joined in as the truck was beginning to be stripped clean.

"Joker, what are you doing?!" Uh oh, it looks like Queen wasn't happy.

"C'mon Queen, they're starving," Joker protested, "I can't just run away and let them watch the food they need be taken away again."

"That's not the issue, Robin Hood," Queen yelled back in his ear, "they're all targets now! Shadows are coming from all directions, and they're going to—"

"Say no more." Joker said, moving to the middle of the street. If he stays around a little longer, then he might be able to buy them some time. And here he thought that being a priority target wouldn't come with any upsides.

Shadows—Yaldabaoth's little minions who were often the first to respond to any signs of rebellion among the people and deal with them appropriately. The damn things might look like weak little blobs, but even the weakest are stronger than most humans and have some powerful magical abilities to boot.

Execution was extremely rare as were the shadows or the authorities' use of lethal force, although this was more due to Yaldabaoth simply not wanting to put anything to waste rather than benevolence. Not to mention, Akira would probably be very high on the execution list if they were to learn his identity.

Queen began speaking again, "Joker, we're on our way to—"

"No, stay where you are," he ordered. "I can take them. Keep the plan the same and stay where you are."

"Joker," a new male voice said. "Are you certain that—?"

"Fox, I said it and I meant it." He replied to his comrade. Last thing he needs is to worry about his teammates in all of this too… that, and he was in the mood to have some fun.

Hearing a woman from the crowd scream, Joker looked at them and followed their gazes to find the dark blob-ish form of a shadow on the rooftop of a building. The only thing that could be considered a face on the creature was a mask that continued to look at the looters and then back at Joker.

People who loot from "government" property were pretty high on the priority scale, but so were the anarchists Joker and his lot. Not good, he needed to give them another reason to attack him and not the others.

Raising the gun in his hand, the boy fired upon the shadow to get its attention. Unfortunately, at that range and Joker's lack of actual training, all of them ended up missing the creature and either harmlessly passing next to it or the building it was standing on. That was fine however—he didn't need to hit it yet.

Now provoked, the shadow settled its gaze on Joker and summoned the rest of the shadows with it to attack him.

" _Two, four, six, ten, and twelve…"_ Joker counted in his head, backing up and looking at the shadows surrounding him. _"Hmm, a little less than I expected."_

With the shadows focused on him, they harmlessly crawled past the looters. The last of them were just two guys and one woman grabbing a handful of items that Joker couldn't identify from this distance and sprinting off with one of them even using their own shirt was a makeshift bag so they wouldn't be slowed down. Good, no risk of collateral damage and the shadows are close enough where he'd have to be a blind man to miss.

"All this for me?" Joker asked, placing his hands on his heart and letting out a gasp. "Why, I'm flattered! I didn't know I was this famous!"

"Joker, what _the hell_ are you doing?" he couldn't even tell which teammate was yelling at him this time. Maybe all of them were?

"Ooh, looks like the fan club wants some autographs! No problem," Joker said, taking several steps back before firing upon the shadows again, who were now so close together that it almost made aiming at them a waste of time.

Hearing the growls and screeches coming from the creatures, Joker turned around and started running. The more focused they are on him, the better chance those people had of not getting caught with an unusual amount of groceries.

The raven-haired boy turned back into the alleyway to keep them chasing him and away from anyone else who just so happened to be around. Even if they were running now, he had to buy those people some time to get far away from here.

As he was about the reach the end of the alley, he heard more moans and growls above him. Raising his weapon, Joker fired upon the figure above him barely taking any time to aim.

The sound of another bullet being fired pierced the air and Joker shielded his eyes from the ichor that had been spilt. A shadow that had apparently been ready to pounce on him from above instead yelped in pain. Unable to stop itself now that it was already descending, the shadow impacted with the wall just a meter or two off from its original target.

" _Damn,"_ he thought, turning right once he reached the end of the alley—that was his last shot.

"Oracle, are far away are the by now?" Joker asked, putting his gun away in his coat.

"Far enough to be out of danger," Oracle answered, "You need to—"

"Working on that!" He shouted back, coming to a stop after spotting another group of shadows that had come to help deal with him. By his count, this new group consisted of fourteen more shadows, making the total twenty-six (provided the one shadow survived its fall and getting shot).

Fourteen in front, and twelve or eleven in the back with buildings to his left and right effectively boxing him in—looks like he wasn't going to get out of this without getting his hands dirty.

Luckily for him, being in an open space like this meant that he could use a little surprise he'd been saving.

Joker began sprinting at the group of fourteen shadows in front of him again. Reaching into another one of his coat pockets, Joker tossed a bright gem at the approaching abominations.

The shadows ignored the gem at first, thinking it to be no more remarkable as a random tree or rock on a sidewalk. However, this immediately changed the second the gem impacted with ground causing an explosion that blew several of them pieces and shrouded the rest in dust and smoke.

With the area shrouded, Joker had the perfect chance to slip away unnoticed. Proceeding with the original plan, Joker used the smoke as cover until he found a manhole that'd lead to the sewers. Time to go…

* * *

"Ugh," Joker groaned, climbing out of the sewers and into another part of the city. He was going to have to bathe for days to make that smell go away. Does their great, great lord and savior Yaldabaoth give everyone food, housing, or a name that's easy to pronounce? Nope, but he does give them plumbing that—as Joker could attest to—is _very_ functional.

"Glad to see you're alright Joker," the boy looked up and saw one of his blue-haired friends.

"Alright is not what I'd call myself," Joker shuddered, taking Yusuke's hand so that he could stand up again. "The van still as I left it?" he asked as his body was briefly covered in a blue flame, only to disappear just as quickly leaving him in nothing more than ordinary school clothes with a bag still being carried on his shoulder.

"Makoto isn't happy with how long you decided to drag things out," Yusuke warned, stopping as they approached a dark and abandoned building with a garage that was likely used for dropping off goods or such before everything went to hell some years back, "neither is Futaba for that matter."

"Oh boy…" Akira whined, not liking the mental images coming to mind. Futaba being angry was one thing—just make her some coffee or something and all is forgiven. Makoto on the other hand… eh, she can't be _that_ angry with him, right?

"Thanks for the warning," Akira said, approaching the back door of the van that he had left concealed in the darkness earlier and knocked on its back doors. "It's me, Mona. Can we come in now?"

"Took you long enough," A voice coming from the van said before its back doors were opened revealing a girl with long orange hair sitting on her laptop and another girl with brown hair sitting in the driver's seat.

Futaba looked up from her laptop, "welcome back, Joker!" she greeted.

"Good to be back," Akira returned climbing into the van with Yusuke behind him. "Ugh, Queen, please never make me go through another sewer again."

"You're lucky you got back at all." And thus began one of Makoto's lectures as she started the vehicle and began driving. "Do you know how close the _human_ authorities were to arriving?"

"I get it, I get it…" Akira waved it off like he had so many other lectures. "I'll be quicker next time."

"You said that the last three times." Futaba muttered with her eyes glued to her laptop. Someone had to keep watch on all the cameras in case the authorities caught wind of his escape route or if they were close to finding the van.

"Alright, so maybe I've been taking baby steps…" the raven-haired boy shrugged. "All is well if it ends well."

"I wouldn't call this well," Futaba said, pinching her nose.

"Hey, I have to walk around with this following me now." Akira crossed his arms. "Oh, and uh… sorry for whatever it must be like for you, Mona."

Being in public and on the road, Morgana was unable to give a worded response but that didn't stop him from letting out a soft whine to voice his displeasure.

"Please tell me you kept the bag clean." Makoto groaned, opening the windows opting to just let the cold air in rather than deal with that foul stench.

"Don't worry. The bag's fine." Akira assured them, causing everyone to let out a relieved sigh.

"I must ask, how _did_ you manage to keep the bag clean but not yourself?" Yusuke asked his comrade.

Akira closed his eyes and slowly shook his head, "you all _better_ appreciate this sacrifice."

"Sure thing…" Futaba said before glancing back at Makoto.

"… as soon as you get a bath." Makoto finished.

"I get it! I get it!"

* * *

"I'm back!" Akira announced his return to the hideout—a former café that also served as Akira's place of residence. Once this had been a place where people gathered to enjoy the small things in life—coffee, company, quiet, and the like—and now, it like every other café and restaurant before was shut down with Yaldabaoth and the authorities handling the regulation of pretty much every human necessity imaginable, rendering places like this to be nothing more than another building for the remnants of humanity to hold up in.

The others had dropped him off at some bathhouse to get clean and left him to walk the rest of the way. Even _that_ was kept under the watchful eye of this new world's government. The entire time, there would literally be someone watching you bathe just to ensure you both don't take too long and so no one tries to steal some of the water for drinking—it was just as uncomfortable as it sounds. There was a reason most people didn't bathe most of the year now.

"Akira, you don't smell anymore!" were Futaba's first words the second he walked in. Leave it to her to immediately bring that up again.

"Ugh, don't remind me." Akira groaned before turning to the middle-aged man sitting on the table watching the TV, "Sojiro, remind me why I put up with their constant abuse again."

"Because it's probably because of something stupid you did." Sojiro answered immediately with his infinite wisdom that was probably fueled by all the curry he makes whenever he has the chance.

"Thanks," Akira scoffed before turning back to Futaba. "The others upstairs?"

"They've been helping themselves." Futaba answered with a mischievous giggle. Usually they just robbed one of the points where rations are handed out and then they'd slip out unnoticed, a chance to pig out like this was pretty rare and it was clear everyone was going to capitalize on the opportunity.

"They better not eat it all…" Akira muttered under his breath, climbing up the stairs and to his room.

The room itself was hardly remarkable. It was just a dusty old attic with a sofa, desk, and a makeshift bed. Most people would probably call this standard of living poor back in the day, but now most would kill for something like this—sometimes literally.

Speaking of kill, the glares Akira received from the girls, Mona, and Yusuke sure made him question his lifespan.

Haru, Makoto, and Ann were both sitting on the sofa stuffing their faces with what Sojiro said was called 'pudding', Yusuke was sitting by the desk and from the smell of it seemed to be enjoying some coffee, and Ryuji was apparently helping himself to Akira's bed and some soup.

"So… how's the leg Ryuji?" Akira asked, hoping that that would somehow ease the girls' glares. Although, for some reason despite them not moving in the slightest, he felt that he might've made things worse.

"Eh, it's better than before." Ryuji said, rubbing his leg that was currently in a cast. Some time back, Skull had gotten a little too reckless on an operation with Akira and ended up breaking his leg. Pretty soon he should be walking again… that is, if he's telling the truth.

"Uh huh," Akira said before turning to Ann, "how was he really?"

"He almost cried when he tried walking again," Ann admitted with a sigh.

"It was brave of him to try," Haru said, cringing at the memory, "but maybe it wasn't the best idea to try next to the stairs."

"W-What?! Hell no! I was just... uh…" Ryuji fumbled for an excuse or explanation. The site was entertaining enough that the girls were laughing, including Futaba who had just walked in and was standing next to Akira.

"See Ryuji," Akira chuckled and walked over to pat his friend on the back, "this is why we leave you with baby sitters every day."

"Maybe we should start doing that with _you._ " And just like that, Mona made his triumphant return by jumping onto the table and pulling the pin on that grenade again.

"Guys, come on, it all worked out." Akira said, nudging Ryuji to scoot so he could sit down.

"Do we need to list off the things you've done?!" Makoto said, balling her hands into fist.

"Um… fed a bunch of people?"

"You put a target on their backs." Makoto said keeping her voice stern like a captain berating their subordinate. "You do remember how much danger they were in—that they're _still_ in— right?"

"Well, okay sure, but—"

"And let's not forget about you deciding to fight shadows," Morgana followed up. "What would've happened if they cornered you?"

"I'd have used another gem?"

"That we steal from _them!_ " Morgana shouted as loud as his small feline form would allow, "their stations are probably going to be even more heavily guarded now!"

"Speaking of which," Futaba spoke up, "how many rounds do you have left?"

"…" Akira blinked, not looking forward to whatever was about to happen next.

"You're out, aren't you?" Morgana let out an exasperated sigh.

"Look, what would you all have done!" Akira screamed, jumping out of his seat. "Fine, I got a little carried away. But those people have families to feed, family that are probably starving near-death. I couldn't just walk away with that on my shoulders."

"It's not that, Akira," Ann said, shaking her head.

Yusuke leaned forward in his seat, "I believe what the others are trying to say is that their ire comes not from your intentions, but your means of accomplishing them." He said in his usual one-of-a-kind neutral tone.

"Dude, think we'd get angry over you feeding a bunch of people?" Ryuji asked.

"Right… right… sorry." Akira said, sitting back down.

"At least you were smart enough to use one of your gems," Mona let out a relieved sigh, "the last thing we need is them knowing you're a persona user."

'Persona-user,' being labeled as such as a death sentence around here. There were very few things that made Yaldabaoth actually execute people, and that was certainly one of them. Whereas most people were sent to one of the Farms or come camp, Persona-users were killed on the spot with no trial, prison, or anything.

Word is, however, there are at least _two_ living Persona-users working with Yaldabaoth. It's likely that they were identified at a young age, and/or were from some influential family to avoid having their child die.

That or maybe he's just paranoid enough that he thinks that he'll need them one day. It certainly possible, especially considering how xenophobic he seems to be for anyone coming from what people have dubbed No Man's Land—the place that separates Yaldabaoth's little domain from whatever the hell is on the other side.

Needless to say, it was pretty important that they keep their special talents to themselves for as long as they can.

"How 'bout this," Akira sat back down, back against the wall, "next time, Makoto and come along and make sure I don't do anything dumb again?"

"I can agree to that." Makoto said, smiling in approval.

"Does this mean that I'm going to be stuck babysitting Ryuji again?" Ann whined, clearly not pleased by the prospect.

"Well… Yusuke could help this time." Their leader suggested with a shrug.

"I do not see the harm in that," Yusuke agreed. "Art is capable of expressing many things, perhaps all that Ryuji needs now is one such outlet?"

"W-Wait, what?"

"Hey, I heard there's some street performer around this time," Akira said, standing up to grab his bag which Mona immediately hopped in. "I think I'm going to go check it out."

"Ooh, I love street performers!" Haru said, grabbing her things.

"Eh, why not? I'm in." Ann was quick to follow suite.

"Can't be any worse than what Ryuji's about to go through." Makoto chuckled to herself.

"Nah, I've been meaning to change some hardware on my PC lately." Futaba said, but continued to walk out with the rest.

"B-But… guys…" Ryuji let out a weak whimper, realizing he was now all alone with Yusuke who was now talking about art.

"Allow me to go over a form that is sadly underappreciated—the art of the selfie!"

Why couldn't the others have just killed him?

* * *

Akira exhaled into his hands before rubbing them together to create friction. "Is it colder than usual, or is it just me?"

"Father says that the climate's temperature has been getting lower recently." Haru answered. "I think even Yald—"

"Lord…" Akira was quick to correct her. In the hideout was one thing, but now they were in public walking down the street. Even the slightest mistake could mean the difference between waking up in your bed tomorrow or in cuffs and surrounded by guards.

"R-Right," Haru corrected herself. "I think even Lord Yaldabaoth's most loyal servants are having trouble with the famines it's causing."

"Speaking of famines…" Ann said, looking off to the side at a site that was too common now. People had a habit of just sitting out in the streets and begging for food or something to spare.

Normally Yaldabaoth took care of those under his wing, but if he had reason to think your loyalty was anything but absolute, your options for just about any job were next to nothing. In the early days, there were black markets trading ration cards but they were always put to rest fairly quickly.

"Here," Makoto said, handing a few of the ration cards she had on hand to one of the men in tattered clothing and looked dangerously thin. One of the benefits to being young in this day and age meant that Yaldabaoth made sure that simply having a kid guaranteed rations—provided you were willing to let it be 'educated' by government sanctioned schools.

"Thank you, miss." The man thanked, his voice was raspy and hoarse. The poor guy probably hadn't even had anything to drink for a while.

"Please miss," A woman said, clutching a child wrapped in blankets. "Spare one for me and my baby."

"Please, I haven't eaten in days."

They just kept coming.

"Ma'am, please…"

"I'll die unless…"

"P-Please… I… I…" the last one was a boy at around twelve to thirteen, unable to even finish his sentence without being interrupted into a coughing fit.

"I don't have enough for everyone…" Makoto said, glancing at the small number of cards she had. Her sister was a prosecutor (even in a world like this, Yaldabaoth still gave them 'trials' for most crimes) so she had more than the norm, but there were just so many people…

One moment it'd be a group of five, then eight, then fourteen, and then twenty-five, and it just kept going up and up.

"Take these and spread them around," Akira said, passing a stack from his bag to the sickly man. "Make sure everyone gets one, and then the rest go to the sick and kids, alright?"

The man nodded, "thank you sir." He said before passing the cards around to everyone.

"Where'd you get those?" Ann asked.

"Still had a few from one of our previous… excursions." Akira answered, shrugging after the brief pause when he was forced to select his words carefully. Even among those you help, you never know when someone might stab you in the back.

"It saddens me to see people like this," Haru said, softening her gaze as she looked upon everyone. If she could, she'd gladly help make sure they're all fed and given a home, but there was nothing she could do, especially with a man like her father at the head of the family.

"Ever wonder if it's this bad everywhere?" Akira asked the others, watching people clutch a tiny card like it's their lifeline before walking (or sometimes limping) to some checkpoint to have their first meal in days.

"You're talking about past _there_ aren't you?" Ann asked, "Who knows? I can't imagine it being much better."

The domain past No Man's Land—it's been the thing of bedtime stories ever since the world went to hell from what he's heard. There's always a different story from someone from beyond there who managed to sneak inside this place.

Some say the land is ravaged by shadows. Some says it's being torn apart by _daemons._ There was even one guy who said there's some daemon in human form killing _anything_ it wants. But in all of those stories, there was only one thing they all agreed on—the name of the god who rules there…

 ** _Nyarlathotep…_**

"Ooh, is that him!" Ann said, pointing to another man sitting in a foldable chair with a guitar in his hand.

"Yup, sure looks like him." Akira nodded, gesturing the others. If the word around town is right, he's not even doing this for tips or anything; his sole motivation is providing music to the beggars and anyone else willing to listen.

According to Sojiro things like listening to music was pretty common in his time but now it's a luxury to be savored. There were so many things that used to be so common then, but now it only seems like a fantasy.

Instead, they're left in a world full of starvation and watching people suffer under the thumb of some tyrannical deity.

Whatever it's like in Nyarlathotep's domain, it can't be much worse than here.

* * *

 **The art of the selfie… good god, it's Life is Strange all over again.**

 **Well, that's chapter one. It's never fun starting a new story for me—far too busy wondering "should I have done more? Less? Was this a terrible idea after all? Why do I suddenly feel the urge to end it in a church?"**

 **Also, in case it's not obvious, this is very much in the AU territory. Things have played out pretty differently than from 1999 onwards (that meaning from pre-P3 through P5). Personally, I'm not expecting this to be that popular, but it'll help with the burn out… I hope.**

 **Also, I couldn't find an image of Yald with Nyar, so enjoy the image of just Yaldy...**

 **Update: I kinda hated how I ended the chapter originally, so I added another part at the end there. Hope you all like it.**


	2. Chapter 2

***cough* *cough* you know writing with a cold just might be one of the most unpleasant experiences ever. You always feel like there's something at the back of your throat, you're coughing all the time, and reaching for another tissue. So yeah, that's been my past week or two… or more depending on whenever this comes out. (update: it was definitely** _ **more**_ **)**

 **Got told by a friend last chapter was a bit too "tell don't show" with the exception of the end scene that I added in an update and generally had the exposition get a little unnatural. All right, let's see if I can do better…**

* * *

"How many times have I told you?" Akira admonished the boy limping next to him on the snowy sidewalk. "Stop trying to walk! You'll just make everything worse."

"I know, I know," Ryuji relented, relying on the crutches given to him again. "I thought it'd have healed up already."

"I wonder why is hasn't," Akira shrugged with a slight smirk showing. "I mean, if I tried to use a broken limb—"

"Not this again."

"Hate hearing it, then stop doing it." Akira finished his reprimand,. It was his turn to babysit Ryuji, and it was going about as well as he expected.

"Hey, I don't give _you_ shit about—"

"Watch it!" Akira yelled, kicking Ryuji's bad leg causing him to suppress a scream as hard as he could. When the blonde glared back at his, Akira titled his head and squinted slightly as if to remind them of where they were.

"Right… sorry," Ryuji apologized. Shaking his head the two continued until they saw a platoon of armed men standing by what seemed to be some sort of check point.

"Looks like a checkpoint." Akira said, looked around to glance at some of the cameras around the area. "Did you remember to bring your school pass?"

"Uh…"

Akira shook his head, "Shame, Ryuji—shame."

"Oh come on," he pouted. "How was I supposed to know they'd be setting up checkpoints?!"

"Maybe the fact they had one of their shipments robbed yesterday?" Akira pointed out. It was moments like this that reminded him why Ryuji was almost never allowed any input when it came to making plans—the guy was just not very bright.

"Ugh, whatever," Ryuji frowned, looking back. "Looks like we gotta go all the way back."

"Have fun with that." Akira said, walking away towards the checkpoint.

"Wait, what?!" Ryuji screamed at him to no avail, not even warranting a brief pause. "You can't just leave me like this!"

"Time to prove you don't need a babysitter!" Akira shouted back, briefly turning around and walked backwards long enough to wave goodbye.

Akira heard a few more yells and curses, but brushed them off as he approached one of the guards.

"Name and purpose?" The guard asked, his face obscured in his helmet and his voice put through a synthesizer to make them all sound alike.

"Akira Kurusu," he said, pulling out his school pass. "Just headin' to school."

"Says here you don't live around here," the guard noted. "What were you doing here?"

Akira looked back and saw Ryuji standing there, still glaring daggers into his back. "Well, I was supposed to make sure the blonde oaf over there didn't hurt his leg any more than he already did, but…"

"He forgot his pass?"

"Yup."

"They always do." The guard shook his head before standing to the side, "alright, you're free to go."

"Thanks, sir." Akira thanked, giving Ryuji one more little smirk before walking away and leaving the poor soul all by himself.

"Tch, dick." Ryuji cursed under his breath. Some friend he was, leaving him all alone like that. Granted, it's not like it would've changed much and he'd probably be late, but at least then he'd have someone to vouch for him!

"Excuse me," Ryuji nearly jumped when he heard a voice behind him, only being stopped when he put pressure on his leg again and felt it hurt all over again.

"Argh, dammit," Ryuji cursed, slowly turning himself around and he tried to suck up the pain as best as he could.

"You seem to be troubled," the boy in front of him said, "by any chance have you forgotten your school pass?"

"I…" Ryuji cringed, not wanting to admit it but not having a lot of choice. "Y-Yeah…"

"Hmm," the boy put his hand to his chin in thought, "let's see if I can convince them to let you through."

"Dude, there's no convincing these guys of anything." Ryuji objected, knowing full well the long list of failures pretty much everyone has with these people.

"Don't worry, I'm very persuasive." The boy replied, flashing a charming smile as he walked up to the checkpoint.

"Name and purpose?"

"Goro Akechi, just performing my usual duties as a student," the boy introduced himself, handing the man his pass. "By any chance can you let my blonde friend through?"

"You know I can't."

"Surely you can let just one minor hiccup slide?" Goro asked, smiling as he scratched the back of his head. "I'll put in a good word for you…"

The guard sighed, "I suppose one kid with a limp won't cause too much trouble," he relented. "But let him know this is a one-time thing, and he should be grateful for how lucky he is."

"Thank you," Akechi thanked the man before returning to Ryuji, "you can go now."

"Wait, really?" Ryuji blinked, "you're screwing with me, right?"

"Not at all," Akechi denied, "they did say to tell you it was a one- time thing however."

"Aw, sweet!" Ryuji cheered, moving as fast as his crutches could take him.

Akechi chuckled to himself, "happy to help."

* * *

Akira tugged at the collar of his uniform. He'd recently gotten his school uniform replaced, giving him another reminder of just how uncomfortable the thing was for the first few days. Where do they even make these things?

"I can't believe you just ditched him!" Akira heard a giggling voice next to him.

"Hmm?" Akira turned and saw no one there.

"Down here…"

Akira looked down and saw a familiar black cat sitting in front of him.

"Mona," Akira groaned, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose before pushing his glasses back up. "What have I told you about sneaking out?"

"You know I can't just stay cooped up inside all day," Mona defended himself. "I just end up getting stir-crazy."

Akira took quick glances around the area, noting the cameras and the angle their positioned in. He was going to have to choose his words carefully.

"You know you can't just wander around, little guy." He said, kneeling down to pet the feline.

"Hey, what're you—" Mona followed Akira eyes towards the nearest camera. Luckily, only persona users could hear him speak actual words, while the rest only heard innocent meows.

"Now, you get going back home now." Akira ordered, standing up again. "And be careful, you never know when someone might eat you."

"Yeah, yeah…" Mona grumbled, walking away and muttering to himself. "Sorry Morgana, I promise I'll make you some tuna latter. Thanks Joker, your friendship means everything to me."

" _Sorry, kitty,"_ Akira thought, walking towards the school gates, joining in the long line of students to get inside. He should probably make that cat a treat one of these days.

One after another, student after student was let into the school and eventually, it was Akira's turn to face another one of the city's guards.

"You know the drill," the guard said.

"Yes, sir," Akira nodded, placing his bag aside for another guard who immediate opened it and searched for anything out of the ordinary while showing the other his school pass.

"Is… Is this…" The guard put his hands out of the bag and looked at his hands, "… is this fur?"

"… I have a cat." Akira said meekly. Oh, that little vermin was going to get it later. "There's no rule against having a cat."

The guards looked at each other for a moment before asking, "Where did you get a cat?"

"I found it."

The searcher looked back at his partner who simply shrugged in response, not seeing any reason to press the matter any further.

"Whatever," the searcher said, zipping up the bag and handing it back to the student, "Get out of here."

"Yes sir," Akira nodded, heading inside while the guards stopped the next student.

As soon as he stepped inside, Akira was greeted to the warm air that came from the building's heaters, contrasting with the eternal cold that plagued the outside for over a decade.

Yet, it felt like it was so much colder inside. There weren't any ornaments or decorations hanging one the walls. After all, to Yaldabaoth's eyes and his enforcers, there was no need to waste resources on pointless luxuries.

Everyone did their best to keep their voices low. Too loud, and they'd risk causing a disturbance and any repercussions that came with it. Some were minor things like getting tracked and/or forced to do a little of work, and others were more… unpleasant.

Keeping his head low, Akira shuffled his way through the crowds of people and made it to class. Inside was what one would typically expect: some more students, some desks for each, and a big one for the teacher who was currently out at the moment.

Despite there being an absent teacher, the room was even quieter than the hallway. Everyone was just sitting at their desk, waiting for instructions to come. The only thing that could be heard coming from the room was the sounds of footsteps as Akira moved to his seat, and the sound of the occasional sigh. No talking, no whispering, not even something as minor as foot-tapping—nothing but complete silence.

After waiting for some time in the taciturn room, the door opened to reveal their instructor who promptly took stood at the head of the class.

"Good morning," the teacher greeted everyone.

"Morning, sir," everyone replied, almost in unison. This teacher had only been here for a few weeks after their last one 'left,' but their greetings and everyone else's were always the same, with the only variation being between sir or madam.

"I'm sure all of you have heard by now about the robbery that took place the other day," the teacher continued, his eyes watching everyone like a hawk, looking for any sign a student may be zoning out or distracting themselves or each other. Most would call this paranoia, but some would argue this was an act of self-preservation—teaching was a stressful job, and keeping it was like walking on thin ice.

"Now, we want to assure you that Ambassador Shido will be working hard with the authorities to bring those responsible to justice." He assured, and Akira briefly wondered if he was going off of a script.

Come to think of it, there was something he always wondered…

"Yes? You in the glasses," the teacher said, pointing to Akira who had his hand raised.

Lowering his hand, Akira asked, "Sir, I've always wondered, why is he called 'Ambassador' Shido? I know the ultimate authority is Lord Yaldabaoth, but... I don't know, isn't there any title more fitting?"

"Perhaps," the teacher shrugged for a moment, "but know that Shido himself accepted the title of Ambassador, saying he merely wanted to show that he was nothing but a humble servant of our Lord, and a representation of humanity rather than its human ruler."

" _A distinction without difference,"_ Akira thought to himself. His authority was second only to Yaldabaoth himself, and no one dared to oppose him. Still, clinging onto the humble-sounding title of an ambassador, while proudly claiming himself to be a representation of humanity. Humble-sounding, yet egocentric—Akira had to hand it to him; that was a nice move.

"Thank you, sir," Akira nodded, and the teacher resumed giving his false promises and reassurances. This wasn't the first time him and the gang had stolen from the government, but it was the most high-profile one.

Crap, he was going to have to hope Mona doesn't go through his things and conveniently find an unused Garu gem. Using his powers was stupid, and now he was just going to have to hope that his rash behavior didn't come back to bite them.

The day continued much like this. It was spent less on the promises, and more on the measures that the government would take to find and apprehend the thieves and their collaborators. It was useful information that would likely prove beneficial in the future, and definitely explained why checkpoints were being set up in more civilian areas whereas they'd mostly been in important places before.

Of course, they also took the time to explain what they should do if they spotted the thieves or suspects. Tell an officer of your suspicions and their names, and it'd all go into one big record book. Of course, they'd be compensated with some rations cards and maybe even given a little rank up in society, adding just enough to the deal to make it something just about anyone would. Neighbor? Friend? All of that pales when it comes to yourself and your family themselves. Just one sacrifice, and you, your children, and then theirs can finally live comfortably as long as they did as they were told.

It was a sickening system, but it was efficient. Normally, this system would be abused and many have tried. Of course, giving information but being wrong or misinformed was one thing, but what they did to blatant liars… it was more than enough to deter even the bravest and greediest of men nowadays.

* * *

Lunch could not have come soon enough.

Everyone lined up and given the same mundane meals, with a few concessions made. Most of it was a form of rice and on good days you'd get some meat thrown in. Sojiro said that in his day that there were diets like vegetarianism and veganism that'd heavily restrict their diet; what a weird time that must've been.

Getting his meal, Akira sat at the empty table on the side that'd allow him to face towards the entrance. It was a good way to see who comes in and out, and allowed him to get a view of the entire room… look a certain cripple hobbling his way towards him.

"Well, if it isn't the traitor himself." Ryuji grumbled, sitting down putting his crutches against the table.

Akira shrugged, shoving a handful of rice into his mouth before swallowing, "Not like me tagging along would've done anything."

"You don't abandon your best friend like that!" Ryuji protested, loud enough to earn a couple stares which did wonders to quickly quiet him down.

"But Mona's just fine," Akira followed up without missing a beat.

Ryuji blinked before letting out a weak, "Dude…"

"Sorry, I'm a cat-person," Akira chuckled with a half-smirk. Thank god that cat wasn't here; he didn't need anyone feeding that big ego of his.

"You traitor…" Ryuji muttered, only earning a shrug in response.

"Where's your tray anyway?" Akira asked, knowing Ryuji wasn't going to be carrying anything by himself for a while unless it was strapped to his shoulder.

"Makoto said she'd get it for me," he answered, putting a hand on his leg and gently rubbed it, "ugh, I can't wait to get out of this cast."

"You'd probably have been out if—"

"Don't say it," Ryuji growled. He'd been berated the past few weeks by everyone; he didn't need to hear the same thing all over again.

"As long as you're aware," Akira said, taking another mouthful of rice. It tasted like cardboard, and whatever that brown sauce they were using barely made the stuff tolerable, but it was better than starving.

Akira looked up back at the kitchen and eyed on of the students helpers. She was pretty far in the back, and pretty easy to miss unless someone pointed it out to you. The distance between them was too big to get a completely accurate idea of what was going on, but he could still see the little bits of rice being shoved into what looked to be a plastic bag.

"What're you looking at?" Ryuji asked, turning his gaze.

"Kitchen," Akira specified.

"Kitchen?" he repeated, focusing his attention there. "Oh…"

The girl had her bag maybe about half-full now, and seemed to be looking around one more time before concealing it somewhere they wouldn't make out at this distance. But there was one thing that the girl didn't account for, however. During Akira's time as a helper himself, he noticed that in the corner there was a well-placed and hidden mirror that only the staff was supposed to know about, and any that found didn't dare let anyone else know.

After pilfering what she could, the girl quickly left, going through the double doors in the back that were beyond Akira's view. What he did see, however, was a member of the staff putting their things down and following the girl out.

"Stupid," Akira lamented, shaking his head.

"Can't believe that she—" Ryuji paused the moment he noticed Akira's glare, re-structuring his sentence, "I mean, I know she's desperate, but who'd steal from the school?"

"No idea," Akira answered, relieved that Ryuji wasn't completely hopeless. He didn't even want to think about what was about to happen to the girl—beating? Expulsion? Farm? The list was endless.

"What're you two all mopey for?" The two turned their heads to see the girls had finally joined them.

"Nothing much," Ryuji replied, Makoto setting the second tray she was holding in front of him before sitting down between him and Ann.

"Just another thief getting caught," Akira explained.

Haru let out a weak, "Oh," as she sat next to her leader. "I imagine their fate will be most unpleasant."

"It happens," the raven-haired boy shook his head. People will do anything when they're desperate enough, even when they know it's foolhardy.

Akira shoved the last bit of his rice into his mouth before pushing the tray away from him. That thing was probably cleaner now than when he got it, and it'd likely be the same for all the others too.

"Whaddya think Yusuke is doing with Futaba?" Akira mused. Unlike the rest, those two weren't in the official school system, which was technically legal, although that disqualified them from almost everything sponsored by 'Ambassador' Shido and by extension, Yaldabaoth.

"Probably yellin' about something again," Ryuji groaned, trying to push the resurfacing memories of the two first meeting each other to the back of his head.

"Oh, yeah, how was Yusuke's little lesson?" Ann asked, giggling as she pictured the glorious image in her mind. "The art of the selfie, huh?"

"Ugh," Ryuji grunted, gritting his teeth and doing his best to forget what those countless hours with Yusuke was like.

"Actually, how'd you get here?" Akira raised an eyebrow. "You weren't late, so… how'd you get your pass in time?"

"O-Oh, I… uh…" Ryuji sat straight and fumbled between his words.

"You _did_ get your pass…. Right?" ooh, it looked like Queen wasn't happy either.

"I-I uh… might've slipped by…" Akira slammed his head onto the table, while the rest of them either facepalmed or gasped.

"How are you going to get home, Ryuji?" Haru asked. Getting here was hard enough as is, but getting out of here without a pass? You'd need the Devil's luck for that.

"Eh, it's no big deal," Ryuji shrugged the matter off with a laugh. "I'll just get a new one from the office, or at least a temporary—"

"They're not giving those out anymore." Makoto cut in.

"W-What now?"

"Too many suspected forgeries," Makoto clarified. "Currently, the passes are being redesigned and any of old ones not in use was to be immediately recalled."

"I-I… uh…" It was at this moment, that Ryuji Sakomoto had realized…

… he had fucked up.

"I'm sure they'll just detain you for a few hours until your mom picks up," Ann assured him in the nicest way possible that he was likely going to have to be sitting in either a cell or a guarded room for his entire day now.

"M-Mona! He can—"

"Stay away from my cat." Akira ordered immediately. That little ego-centric furball was annoying, but he was _his_ annoying little furball.

"Come on! You guys gotta—"

"I think lunch is almost over," Akira said, standing out of his chair and outstretching his arms. Suddenly, a thought came to his head, "Oh right, hey, Makoto," he called his senior who turned her head and gave him her attention, "that date happening tonight or what?"

"Date?" Ann repeated and was immediately met with Akira's scrunched up face. Her eyes widened as she caught on, "Oh, I forgot you guys were doing that!"

"I suppose it's best to get it done as soon as possible," Makoto answered, understanding what her leader meant behind his words. "I'll go over the last few details with Futaba and then we'll go from there."

"As you, m'lady," Akira smirked, doing an overtly-exaggerated bow. They say playing with fire is a good way to get yourself burned, but who cares when it's this fun?

"Akira…" his voice came out in a low, drawn out whispered that instantly made his face pale. "Are you sure you want to keep doing that?" There wasn't a frown, she was just… smiling… just smiling with her eyes completely focused on him. He couldn't tell if those red orbs were giving him a lifeless glare, or if they were hiding some sort of ice-hold tranquil fury beneath.

"I-I'll be going now!" Akira squeaked out, almost sounding like his voice cracked as he walked away as fast as he could without breaking out into a full-blown sprint.

He still had a lot to live for…

He wasn't dying today…

… probably.

* * *

"How's he doin'," Akira spoke the earpiece in his ear, leaning his back into the wall of nearby building.

"It's going about as well as you predicted," Futaba responded, the sound of keys being typed on her keyboard being loud enough to hear from the other end. "Don't worry. Our favorite blond idiot should be home soon."

"Good," Akira let out a relieved sigh. He didn't think they'd do anything too harsh to Ryuji, but he liked to have confirmation.

"Are you still keeping an eye on the schedules?" Makoto asked, speaking into a similar earpiece scraped together by the same girl.

"Of course," Futaba answered immediately, making a few clicks on her end.

Suddenly, enough voice chimed in, "Besides, even if you're caught, you could just pretend to be a couple!"

It wasn't exactly unknown for such occurrences to happen at times, whether it'd be here in the lesser-off areas or even in some of the loyalist zones. No matter where they are or where they're from, kids will be kids. It was a good thing that the guards were human, at least.

"Thanks for the suggestion, Ann," Akira sighed, pushing a bad memory to the back of his head. Ann always fancied herself being a good actress, but… maybe she could fool a child—or at least, a gullible one?

Akira put his hands over his mouth and exhaled before quickly rubbing them together, hoping the friction would help warm up his cold hands. He was beginning to miss the gloves his Phantom Thief outfit has.

Makoto didn't seem to be fairing much better. No matter how many layers one put on, the cold always finds a way to get to everyone. Then again, what could you expect with the planet being frozen for almost twenty years?

The walk wasn't long, but the cold was making this insufferable. Maybe a little light conversation would help take their minds off it?

"How's your sister, anyway?" he asked, putting up his hood and forcing his hands into his sleeves. "Actually, how are you even out here this late?"

"She doesn't know I'm here," Makoto answered, "her job kinda eats up all her time." Even in a world as twisted as this, there are so-called 'trials' complete with prosecutors and judges and juries to make it all seem fair. But ask anyone, and they'll hesitate to mention any trial where the defendant was deemed not guilty.

"So overtime then?" he nodded while biting his lip. As much as it sucks for her, it was good that her job ensured her sister didn't know anything for now. He didn't know if having a prosecutor connected to the Phantom Thieves would be useful, but it was better safe than sorry.

"That's how it goes," she shrugged, not very bothered by the neglect anymore. "But to answer your original question, she's fine."

"Still calling you worthless?" He raised an eyebrow, remembering what first led to her joining his little band of misfits. Everyone had their own reason; from being sick of being exploited and wanting to find the truth behind your mother's death to almost being killed yourself by someone dear to you and genuinely wanting to help other.

"I told you, that was a one-time thing and only happened because she was stressed out," Makoto shot back, earning him a glare. Jeez, sisterhood really must be important—or maybe he should start using more tact.

"Sorry," he apologized, not wanting to provoke a stronger reaction. "It was just a cruel thing to say. I guess that's how family is sometimes."

Her glare suddenly softened into a soft gaze, "Do you want to talk—"

"We're here," Akira said, stopping in his tracks and turned to face a seemingly ordinary building. Of course, that's what they always wanted you to think.

Akira rolled up his sleeve and looked at his watch, "and right on time too," just a few more seconds.

"Get ready," Futaba said through the coms, "we're about to go silent in five…"

Four…

Three…

Two…

One…

And suddenly, the world began to shift around them.

The streetlights that illuminated the area suddenly went dark and the faint sounds of vehicles driven by the patrolling enforcers were instantly silenced.

The moonlight began a somewhat brighter while gaining an eerie green tint that only served to emphasize the shadows the buildings and such casts.

It wasn't as abundant as it used to be, but if one looked at the walls, they could still see some red ichor seemingly bleeding from the walls before falling to mix in with the snow. The only reason it wasn't as plentiful was because most of the ichor tended to freeze before it even made it that far, causing more than a few accidents if they weren't careful with their footing.

But of course, this was old news to them.

Barely giving the new changes a glance, Akira instantly switched to his Phantom Thief outfit with Queen doing the same. Even if it was just them, shadows were just too damn active around this time for them to be dressed in their civilian clothes.

"Ready?" He asked, gripping the door with his hand and receiving a nod in return. Turning the knob, Joker found it to be unlocked and entered unimpeded, and surrounded by coffins.

It was weird how most people—even Yaldabaoth's men—just became coffins around this time. The only real exception to this just seemed to be persona-users, while Shadows were just given complete free reign.

That said, it certainly made certain operations a lot easier when done during "Magic Hour" as they called it for now.

"Beginning search," Queen announced, scanning the area. Despite there being what were most likely squatters, there was likely some sort of hidden room or the likes where the enforcers like to store some of their things.

" _Come to think of it, how many of them were actually squatters?"_ Joker found himself wondering. How many were real, and how many were just wearing a mask? Sometimes people find their own means to provide for themselves from cultivating rare plants or finding something called 'mushrooms' (he'd never actually seen those before in his life, but he heard they were edible), but they're soon met with a gun to their face and a life-sentence to one of the farms.

He couldn't help but feel unsettled the more he thought about it. Not many were around, but enough were that one could notice what he did during his last outing. Everyone thinks he just used a Garu gem to knock the truck down, but instead he got reckless and used his power.

If anyone noticed, then…

It was one thing to be deemed a small group of thieves and anarchist. Being a persona-user is a quick way to earn the full wrath of either Yaldabaoth himself, or even the 'Black Knight' that there are a bunch of rumors about.

"Joker!" he heard his codenamed called, snapping him out of his daze.

"What is it?" Joker asked, walking to his teammate who was hunched over a particular spot on the floor.

"Look here," she said, pointing to markings on the floor, but there was no bookshelf or any furniture or the sort.

"I wonder…" Akira mused before knocking onto the adjacent wall.

" _Hollow, good,"_ Joker thought before pushing on the wall to the left of the marks with a moderate amount of force, causing it to slightly open like a door.

Slipping their fingers through the small gap created, Queen and Joker pulled on the hidden door forcing it open to reveal a smash stash of locked crates.

"There we go," Akira smirked, reaching into his coat to pullout a lockpick that he and Mona had made all the way back when they were just a duo.

"Remember, don't take too much," Queen warned. A few lost bullets or gems here or there could easily be a mistake caused by transportation, miscount, etc. Losing too much would get everyone's attention.

"I know, I know," he opened one of the boxes, revealing a bunch of rounds that he couldn't identify even if he tried.

"Uh… you're the closest one here to a weapons expert," He said, sliding the box to her. "You take the bullets, I'll handle the gems."

"On it," she complied, searching through her share.

They had less than an hour, but something told him that this was going to be a long night.

* * *

He always hated full moons.

Even before the world went to hell, he always hated them. He could never explain why at the time, but there was always something that struck him as creepy when he was a kid. Maybe it was something about the way it glowed or maybe it was the ambience that it caused.

But now, now it served to mark a night where the torture starts all over again.

There weren't any people around, he made sure of that. He was far away from the urban areas Yaldabaoth likes and whatever constituted as civilization around this part of the world.

No, it was just him alone in this tiny abandoned home with his belt in his mouth, fighting the urge to scream as the creature clawed at the doors to its cage. The animal had been held captive for almost twenty years now, and it wanted to be free.

His body was soaked with sweat, almost like he'd been suffering from a fever. He'd tossed the blue hoodie and black shirt he normally wore somewhere around here, but that'd just leave him soaked in the cold.

He couldn't control the trembling in his fingers, both caused either from the pain or the sensation that his skin had been set on fire after being exposed to the elements for so long. Maybe it was the lighting, but he could swear his fingers were turning blue too.

He tried standing up, but he only crashed back into the floor. His legs felt like that of a patient who had just woken up from a coma—weak and stiff, almost like they were jelly.

A cough forced it way out of his throat, forcing him to spit out the belt. Looking at the floor, he can see a small amount of light being reflected from his eyes that gained some sort of luminescence whenever he used his powers or that thing got too irritated.

He's forced to suppress a scream as the creature began ramming the gates, using all his strength to wear down what was locking him inside. It wanted freedom, but its freedom would ensure the next few nights would be everyone's last.

Biting his lip so hard that he drew a few droplets of blood, he slowly forced himself back on his feet, leaning on the walls for support in case he lost his balance again.

Better—this was better than what it used to be like. It was just pain now, which was a good trade-off.

Stumbling into what might've been a proper bedroom all those years ago, he collapsed back into the floor again, albeit this time due to him being too exhausted to make it to the makeshift bed he had been previously.

Turning his head, he saw his reflection in an old long-shattered mirror. A few scars from injuries from his early days before he could heal wounds effectively, his ghostly pale pallor, his brightly lit blue eyes, and his unkempt dark blue hair that he had let grow slightly longer than back when he was a teenager, complete with a long fringe that was currently stuck to his forehead from the sweat.

When this old hour his knew very well finally ended, he couldn't stop his consciousness from fading—his body too exhausted and in need to prepare itself for the next full moon.

There on the cold floor of an old, dusty, abandoned home, he heard a loud shriek echo in his ears as Death's imprisonment continued, much to its indignation.

* * *

 **Shit, this took a long time to get out. Hell, the only reason that little bit at the end there was added was because I wanted to leave you guys with something for waiting so long.**

 **Ugh, you know what sucks about the beginnings? It's getting everything started. I already know WHAT I want to do, but getting there is… challenging. Ah well, we'll just have to get there... eventually.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ichinaruko: That… is pretty spot-on. Not bad. Also, Nyar's name is spelt Nyarlathotep. Don't worry, I screw it up too, same with Yaldabaoth. Jesus, what is it with deities, mythological, and religious figures and their pain-in-the-ass to pronounce names?**

 **I really hope I get this out sooner than I did the last chapter, because that long pause was absurd. Alright, I'm starting this… late March, so now we get to see just how long it takes for me to write just one chapter for this story.**

* * *

"Mona, stay out of my bag," Akira ordered his feline friend whilst he was loitering around in his room, sitting on the worn sofa that had been there since he moved in.

"Hold on," Mona replied, continuing to dig through his friend's things.

"What are you looking for anyway?" The raven-haired boy raised an eyebrow. As far as he knew he didn't have anything that the cat wanted.

In response, Mona only returned a muffled "Got it!" before he slowly began retreating from the bag with a can in his mouth.

Akira glanced at the cat for a moment before widening his eyes slightly and directing his full attention to the feline. The cat managed to store a can of tuna in his bag?

"How… how did you…" Akira was too confused to even properly phrase the question, "and… no one noticed? Not even the guys who searched me? How…"

"Less talking, more opening!" Mona demanded, clawing at the can with his paws. It was at times like this that Akira was reminded just how much he took thumbs for granted.

"Fine, fine…" Akira muttered, grabbing hold of the can and slowly taking the lid off, being careful not to accidentally cut himself on the edge before putting it back down to feed his little friend.

Without uttering so much as a 'thank you,' Mona buried his face into the can and began digging into the tuna.

Where did they even get tuna anyway? Didn't most animals—fish included—die over the years from the sudden harsh conditions? Then again, there's a lot of the world he has yet to see and he was far from an expert when it came to fish and animals, so maybe he should just keep his mouth shut?

"I almost got in trouble because of you, you know," Akira sighed, leaning back into the sofa. "You do remember there are barely any—if any—cats left on the planet—or at least this side of it—right?"

"And?" Mona asked, lifting his face from the can. "What're they gonna say? You're under arrest for harboring a pet?"

"Would that really surprise you?" Akira shot back, shaking his head. No point in arguing over it, what's done is done.

Scooting over to the left and reaching between the sofa and his desk, Akira grabbed onto a large, black duffel bag and set it on his lap. Grabbing the zipper, he opened the bag to reveal last night's spoils—a few rounds for each of the various weapons they used, and, of course, the gems they managed to salvage. Over all, it was a good haul.

Now the question was what to use it for?

They can't go on too many raids too soon, otherwise they were going to screw up eventually and they'll be ready for it. Ryuji already has an injured leg that they can't heal without giving away what they are, and he managed to make numerous amounts of screw ups in just one mission.

Trying to be good really does suck, doesn't it?

"Hey, kid!" Sojiro's voice could be heard from downstairs. "One of your friends wants to see you!"

A surprise visit? It must be important.

* * *

 _ **Some time earlier**_

"Take care!" Haru waved a group of people away after presumably giving them some cards or some other important items to help them get by. She certainly was an anomaly in that, despite being from one of the better-off parts, she certainly was a giver.

As he was approaching her with her back turned to him, he couldn't help but wonder what her father must be like and what chain-of-events caused her to turn out so different. Perhaps even in the worst of times, the best of humanity still had those that could shine through it all?

"Hello," he greeted, nearly causing her to jump in surprise before turning around.

"My apologies," Akechi apologized with a small chuckled escaping his lips, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"O-Oh, it's nothing," she stammered, recovering from the shock. Not many people liked wandering around here, especially not alone, so what was he doing here?

He didn't look like he was another person who lived here; his clothes were well put together and well groomed, and he didn't look that thin so he was probably fed regularly. He looked about her age, but she hadn't seen him in school—an oddity considering his appearance marks him as one of the value citizens like her father.

Come to think of it, didn't her father mention someone similar to him before? She's had so many meetings with him that everything he told her tended to meld together and…

"Hello…?" he said slowly, keeping the smile on his face. "I didn't cause you to lose your voice, have I?"

"N-No," she answered immediately, recovering quickly as she thought back and suddenly had a familiar name her father had mentioned came to mind. "Excuse me, but would you happen to be Goro Akechi?"

"I see I'm beginning to gain a reputation," he answered, "why yes, I am."

Oh, this isn't good. If her father felt the need to mention him, then that meant he was someone important, and that meant that she couldn't afford any slip ups.

But why is he important? Was he a spy, silently reporting everything he sees amongst the populace? Maybe he's an in-training officer, looking for any excuse to conjure up favors with the higher ups?

"My, it would appear that my sudden appearance has you spooked," He continued smiling as usual before shifting into a slightly more serious demeanor, "Oh, of course, you're probably still on edge."

"On edge?" She repeated, unsure what he was referring to.

"From the recent robbery of rations," he clarified, making Haru feel slightly relieved, "I believe those were provided for by your father, correct?"

"Oh, yes!" She answered with a nod. Her Father worked as the head of one of the farms, not that she'd ever done so much as laid eyes on it as of yet. Still, this gives her a subject to bounce off of for now.

"It was indeed quite a shock," she followed up, "Father has been rather… incandescent since."

"It's no surprise," he said with a hint of worry in his voice, it might've even been genuine, "Shido isn't known for forgiving failures. If your father were to continue failing to protect his precious cargo, I fear what would happen to both him and to you."

"W-Why, yes…" She quickly went along with what he was saying, hoping that it didn't sound too forced. "I believe it would be most unfortunate for all parties involved if Father were to lose the Ambassador's favor."

"Of course, we already know who to blame for this, don't we?" He asked rhetorically, raising an eyebrow. "To be honest, I'm surprise the Phantom Thieves have lasted this long. Perhaps fortune truly does favor the bold."

Haru tilted her head at his choice of words, "You sound almost like you admire them."

"I suppose I do," He answered with a shrug. "I admire their spirit and audacity, but I'm afraid I cannot support what they're fighting for."

He cleared his throat and continued, "as imperfect as the current system may be, it is better than the alternative. Were we to eliminate it, we risk devolving into the hellish landscape that resides on the other side of the island."

"So you support their ideals, but believe that it's too risky?" She asked, trying to understand.

"I believe that they shouldn't be acting without some sort of end goal in mind," He explained as best he could. "Were we to forfeit Lord Yaldabaoth's protection without anything to fall back on, we would be easy targets for… _him."_

"I see…" she said weakly. As much as she hated to admit it, he did have a fair point. They didn't exactly have much of a big goal in mind currently. All they've done is robbed a few places and made the officers' jobs harder.

"Ah, but I came here to ask how you were doing," he laughed, "my apologies, I'm afraid I might have gone off on a tangent there."

Haru shook her head, "It's no trouble."

"You're too kind," he flashed another smile before taking his leave, and leaving her with another incoming group of the homeless and starving.

* * *

"Well," Akira bit his, slowly bobbing his head left and right, "that was certainly unexpected."

"He's got a point," Mona said, sitting by his friend's side. "What _are_ we trying to do?"

"I dunno," Akira shrugged, leaning back into his seat and looking up. "Up until now, I've just been satisfied just helping people go to sleep with a full stomach. I never really thought about anything more."

"But we can't just continue robbing places blindly," Haru spoke up, taking a sip of the coffee that Sojiro had brewed for her. Even after the apocalypse and they started giving things at the lowest quality and quantity, the old man still new how to make coffee taste good.

"We should probably talk about with the others," Mona suggested, reminding them that even if Joker was leader, they never made a decision without consulting everyone else first.

"Right," Akira let out a long sigh that gradually became another groan. "So many headaches all in the name of trying to do the right thing; being good sucks."

"It wouldn't be worth it if it were easy," the feline said, trying to sound wiser than he really was.

Akira shook his head, "Mona… please don't; you're not Sojiro, words of wisdom just aren't for you."

"What?!" The cat shot up, glaring daggers into the boy. "I'll have you know that—"

"Hey, Futaba, I take it you hear that," Akira asked, reaching beneath the seat and feeling around before pulling up his hand to reveal a small little disc that had been place there. Leave it to Futaba to bug the whole place.

"She's placed bugs here?" Haru asked, not used to living so close to Futaba and the… lack of privacy that entails.

"I'm pretty sure everyone's bugged," he replied tossing the disc somewhere he wasn't paying attention to. "Well, minus Ann, but that's only because she started going insane after hearing her talking in the mirror."

"Talking in the mirror?" The fluffy-haired girl repeated.

"Yes," he nodded, "her acting is what it's like _practiced._ Yes, you should be very afraid."

Very…

Very…

Very afraid…

* * *

The man in blue stifled a cough, sitting in his seat with his hood up and gaze directed at his watch as time continued to pass by.

The place he was in was—for lack of a better word—a dump. By the standards here, this would be a tavern or an inn, or hell, maybe even a bar considering how much alcohol they serve here. The town was small like most places now, but almost all of the seats were filled and the people were ready to be served. Of course, everyone at least took a few moments of their time to stare at the blue-haired outsider, but that was the norm nowadays; you can't trust anyone, especially those you don't know.

It was quite amazing really. Even after the end of the world, everyone still had this infatuation with alcohol, even the dreadful spit they serve now. Although, perhaps it's less of the drink itself and more of the moment of intoxication that comes with it; a time to forget how screwed up the world is, and even have some fun and being happy, if only for a little while before passing out.

But, of course, with any place during any time period full of desperate human beings, there's another thing they turn to in order to forget everything for a short period of time. There were a number of scantily clad people scattered throughout the place, most appearing to be female to the untrained eye. Indeed, most just see a means of satisfying their urges or just a way to have fun for a night.

To the trained eye however, well…

"Do you even hear me?" A man spat in the hooded figure's face, ranting about how outsiders weren't welcome and maybe a threat or two; he didn't know. He started blocking the poor bastard out after his first three words.

The hooded man sighed and looked at his watch. "Yeah, I got time," he said, standing out of his seat.

"Time for—" the man was cut off by a sudden jab to the throat, quickly doing the world a favor and silencing him.

To be sure there wouldn't be any more retaliation from him, the hooded man grabbed him by the back of the head and slammed him face-first into the wall, leaving a small splatter of blood—probably from a broken nose.

Letting the annoying man go, he dropped to the floor too delirious from the sudden and quick beating that he took to function normally. He'd probably be fine in a few hours… probably.

The bluenette looked back up to see everyone staring at him again; some shocked at what he'd done, some looking a little afraid, and a few fueled by liquid courage and recklessness were ready to start another fight.

Before that could happen, however, another person walked in. This one was another scantily clad feminine figure, possessing blonde hair with strange almost unreal curls and dazzling blue eyes.

When she walked in, she looked somewhat bewildered at the silence in the normally deafening place. But when she followed their gazes, she let out a gasp.

The hooded man chuckled, "Hello, Catherine."

Before he could do anything else, she ran out the doors as quickly as she came, leaving the bluenette to let out a long sigh.

"Of course," he groaned, flipping the table out of his way and pursuing her, noting the glares from the feminine figures behind him. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Stepping out of that slum, he saw her continuing to run away as quickly as she could, but what she failed to take into account was that unlike the cities that Yaldabaoth has, the roads aren't properly cleared.

" _Jack, do your thing,"_ He thought, and suddenly pillars of ice were erected from the snow, cutting Catherine off and leaving one choice—to face him.

She turned around and glared daggers into him, biting her lip in contempt as he continued to approach.

"Well," she finally began to speak up, "if it isn't the Blue-Oni himself, Minato Arisato."

"Hmm?" He tilted his head slightly to the side, "Blue-Oni, is that what they're calling me now?" he mused, "Huh, you know, I kinda like it. I'm surprise they used actual Japanese in that name through. Don't Nyarlathotep and Yaldabaoth both hate it when it's used?"

"We like to think it shows just how futile your efforts are," she replies with a hiss. "No matter what you do, you're just another relic clinging to a time that'll soon be forgotten."

"Are we gonna fight or what?" He asked, rolling his eyes. "I swear, you daemons talk too much."

"Your funeral," she said, smirking when she saw more of her sisters leaving the building behind him, but he didn't do so much as give them a quick glance.

Suddenly, all the feminine figures transformed into a black mass that quickly changed its size and shape to reveal what these 'women' truly were: succubi brought to this world by Nyarlathotep, and thus taking owing complete fealty to him.

Meh, pretty low on the power scale really; he's only after Catherine for now. Minato glanced back the daemons ready to come to their sister's aid.

" _Two, five, seven… that's it?"_ And here he thought they'd at least be able to overwhelm him. Best to make this quick then.

"Daisoujou," he muttered and summoned the mummified monk to aid.

Before the daemons behind him even had a chance, the persona rang its bell and they found themselves within a brightly lit circle. They hardly even had a moment to scream before they were left vaporized when the circle changed into a ray, killing all of them immediately.

"Must be a real drag being weak to light attacks, eh?" Minato chuckled before turning back to Catherine, who at this point was on her knees begging for mercy.

Well, that was certainly anti-climactic…

"That was just sad," he shook his head, walking closer to the lone succubus. "I mean, I didn't think I could even be disappointed anymore, but that? I don't even have words."

"W-Wait," she begged, getting on her hands and knees with what looked like tears in her eyes. Looks like daemons really can feel fear. "I'll do whatever you want! I'll never—"

"Can we skip this?" He asked, rolling his eyes, summoning a sword with its tip pressed against her throat. "We both know your stalling."

"Stalling?!" She screamed, tears running down her face. "For what?! Some hero to save me?"

"Nope, you're stalling for—"

A loud wail pierced the air, and the chill in the air suddenly began to feel a lot colder. Yup, there she was.

"… For mommy," he finished his sentence before shoving his blade into her throat, quickly killing her and causing her to fade away into a black mist.

Minato turned around and saw another feminine looking daemon. This one was larger than its succubi children, and was also completely lacking in any clothing, keeping its body completely bare, with nothing but a viper wrapped around it covering its body.

"I take it your Lilith?" He asked, letting out a small yawn.

Daemons always have some sort of head somewhere, directing everything they do. Succubi are pretty simple: they just had to go out and please whoever is willing to ask for their services and carry on, so they were pretty widespread. Others like Angels, however, tend to be a bit more concentrated.

Killing the head won't really do much in the long run, but it'll through the daemons into disarray for a bit and (at least temporarily) keep new ones from spawning.

Of course, in this case, he'd just pissed off the daemons' mother.

"You," she hissed through her teeth, "you murdered my children!"

"Really? I would've said slaughtered," he shrugged before thinking. "Or maybe massacred? Brutalized? I've killed a lot of succubi, you have to forgive me."

"Y-You…" Did he really just… "You dare!"

"Dare…?" He repeated, waiting for her to finish the sentence. "Tell you I go through your children like a child does candy? In my defence, Catherine attacked me first when I met her. I just came here to finish her off; not my fault the others wanted to get themselves killed."

"I… I… I'll…"By now the daemon was so distraught and filled with anguish that it couldn't even make any more idle boasts like usual.

"Kill me?" He assumed. "Listen, I've been trying to kill me for the past four years, and you can see where that's gotten me. So can you kill yourself and save me the effort?"

No verbal response was given, only more hissing, screams of anger, and more angry noises that he stopped keeping track of ages ago, and just wondered when she was going to do something. Maybe maternal fury wasn't all it's cracked up to be? That, or maybe she's been trying to some of ailment spell and is getting pissed none of it works on him? Eh, who cares if nothing's happening?

"Alright, I've run out of patience," he shook his head and leaned against the pillars be made before looking up at the rooftops. "Red, you're up."

Lilith followed his gaze and for a split second saw another figure diving downwards before it collided with her.

Black blood splattered all over the daemon's porcelain skin as dual swords were buried into her shoulders and in turn the viper wrapped around them.

Her assailant placed one of their feet between her breasts before kicking themselves off, bringing their swords with them and causing her wounds to bleed profusely.

"This is bullshit!" The redheaded boy complained to the bluenette. "You get a moniker and I get nothing!?"

"Sorry, Sho," Minato shrugged whilst throwing his hands up. "I didn't ask for it," he pointed out, lowering his hands and walking closer to the bleeding daemon. "Maybe we should work together more often, that way maybe the fame will rub off on you too?"

Sho scoffed, "oh, shut up."

"Die!" The daemon screamed, sending a torrent of ice crystals towards the man who dared to attack her.

Before they could reach their target, Minato intercepted the attack, standing in front of the redhead and summoning another persona to protect them.

This time, a cartoonish looking figure vaguely resembling some kind of snow creature in a blue hat appeared, absorbing all of the ice harmlessly.

"Pft, ice try, lady!" Sho shouted making his partner bit his lip and fight the urge to hit him for that pun.

"I'll go left, you take the right," Minato ordered before they both took off as fast as their legs would allow them to.

Lilith wasn't going to die by such a simple maneuver, and summoned walls of ice to block the both of them off, directing them to a single point where she could easily exact vengeance for her children.

Against anyone else, that might've worked, or at least been enough to make the attackers stop and waste valuable time to think.

Against them, however, she did just what they wanted—blinded herself.

Lilith felt a sharp pain her back as she felt another sword pierce her flesh. Screaming and glancing behind her, she saw the same redhead that had attacked her moments ago, but this time, his expression was calm and almost emotionless in contrast to his childish attitude just seconds before.

But he was just in front of her, how did he…?

"Daemons, your kind truly are sickening," Minazuki whispered, stabbing his sword between her spine and left shoulder blade. "You're like a disease with no cure. Your only purpose is to contaminate this word until you're eradicated."

"I'd move if I were you, Minazuki!" Minato warned, having another persona by his side.

Before Lilith could move to attack the human that had dared to attack her not once, but twice, he disappeared, seemingly into thin air.

When she looked back at Minato, she saw the redhead standing next to him, wiping the blood from his blades while his friend waved to her, mocking her as his persona attacked.

"Ragnarok," Minato ordered Surt, and Lilith soon found herself engulfed in an inferno, burning away at her flesh and leaving what remains a black charred mess.

When the attack was over, the daemon didn't even have enough strength to keep itself floating in the air.

"Two outta ten," Minato cast his vote, approaching the barely alive daemon.

The redhead lowered his head for a moment before raising it and shaking his head, "Huh? What happened?"

"You tagged," Minato answered, "and as I was saying, two outta ten."

"Meh, I'd give it a three," Sho shrugged, "at least she managed to make me switch for a moment."

"Eh, true enough," Minato agreed, putting his foot down on the daemon's head as he tried to crawl away. "So before I send you off to hell, by any chance have you heard of Takaya? Tall guy, really pale, weird eyes, and a really smooth voice?"

"D-Damn you…" Lilith croaked out.

"What about Ikutsuki?" He asked, "old man, terrible puns, likes experimenting on kids? Any bells?"

"Kill… you…"

"Of course not," Minato clicked his tongue before taking his foot off the daemon only to cleave its head clean off. Just like its children, the daemon faded away into a black mist.

Minato yawned, having his sword de-materialize and leaving the streets with only himself and his redheaded friend.

"Well, I think I'm heading west from here," the bluenette said, "I'll hit the nearest town, maybe go south from there."

"Hmm…" Sho hummed to himself for a second. "I'll go…" he paused looking around before pointing in a random direction, "that way!"

"… that's west, Sho," Minato pointed out. Their working together here was only due to them meeting by chance, and while they're on decent terms, both preferred going their own way. Otherwise, they'd probably end up killing each other.

"Uh, that way then!" Sho said as he began walking in the opposite direction. How the hell does he get by?

"Suit yourself," Minato raised no objections, but took a moment to notice the terrified looks on everyone's faces from the slum he was in. Now, the question was: were they terrified that they just encountered two persona users, or that most of them had spent more than a few nights with a succubus? Who cares, it was hilarious either way.

For now, he had a search to continue.

Takaya? Small fry, really. He was just some Nyarlathotep nut that needed to die.

Ikutsuki was another story. Another… personal story.

" _I'm gonna find you, old man,"_ Minato thought, smiling to himself.

" _I will find you…"  
_ _ **"We will find you…"**_

* * *

 **Well, got to show off a bit of Minato this time. Co-author might say this was too soon, but considering that I gave you that tease, I figure I'd show what he's up too.**

 **And yes, he vastly outclasses Akira. By, like, a lot. Kinda comes with having Death and years of experience on hand when compared to a mostly ordinary and inexperienced Wild Card. Don't think he's immortal though. He doesn't have, say, DFW Makoto levels of durability.**

 **Oh, and Sho exists here. Actually, pretty much everyone is accounted for here. Well, minus P1 and P2 because I know nothing about them. And yes, that includes the P4 team… sorta. You'll see.**

 **If you got any questions, I'm sure you all know what to do… imma nap for now.**

 **Zzzzz….**


	4. Chapter 4

**Callmecrazylol: Considering Minato is not-dead and is still pregnant with Death, he doesn't have the Universe. Although, in response to the daemon hunting, do remember, they're… well, daemons. They still serve Nyarlathotep in the end.**

 **Though, if you meant that his focus on daemon hunting seems a little out there considering he could be coordinating with his friends… it's a bit messy. We'll get into that later. If nothing else, do keep in mind he's been living in hell for almost twenty years (17 and soon to be 18 years to be exact); he's had it rough.**

 **Guest: Cool beans, mate.**

 **Ichinaruko: AH! DON'T REMIND ME OF THAT FIC! Good Lord, man! Are you trying to kill me?! And define sadistic for me please. If you mean, is there going to be a scene where a character does what Makoto did to you-know-who during that one little trip Minato had… hell no. I have a long list of regrets, and that scene in the fic, it's number 1. Yes, it's ranked higher than chapter 15.**

 **AmeYuuki: Co-author veto-ed me, and her job is to tell me if what I want to do is something I DON'T want to do. However, the FeMC DID exist in this continuity… sorta. Again, we'll get into that later.**

 **Wow, this is actually my first story where FeMC isn't an important character or anything… weird. Sorry, Minako! You're in everyone's hearts!**

 **Alright, for the next few chapters, it might get pretty Minato-focused (mostly because, tbh, I have his route in all of this a lot more thought out than the PT at the moment). PT will get their time to shine again. But I need to make one thing perfectly clear right now: Minato is more of an Anti-Hero in this story than anything. He's firmly on the side of good, but… well… his morals are a bit… just read.**

* * *

"Dead again," Minato muttered, looking down at his mp3 player that's battery had finally drained dry. Maybe his could use one of his personas to power the thing back up, but mp3 players were already a pain to find, never mind one with songs in it, and that's not even getting into the sentimental value this one has—it was too valuable for him to risk.

"Thanks, Fuuka," Minato thanked an old friend of his—wherever she may be—and took off his earphones. Shoving his hands into his hoodie's pouch, he continued walking down the road that had long since been coated in layers of ice and snow.

He was lucky that today was a relatively calm day in terms of weather. The cold wasn't much of a problem for him—Jack Frost and some of his other personas took care of that—but trying to travel during a blizzard which were increasingly becoming the norm were blinding and impossible to move around.

But today, the skies were clear.

Everything but him was put into a seemingly permanent stasis. The trees had frozen over, and all animals were either gone or had reached extreme levels of endangerment from a frozen hell that had gone on for far too long.

Moments like this were almost rather tranquil—peaceful even. No noise, except the sounds of his feet, the shifting of the snow beneath him, and the branches of the trees rustling in the wind. The air possessed a certain, unnatural yet alluring stillness to it.

How long has it been like this—him on his own, away from the others and traveling place to place in an endless search?

It didn't even begin as a search, now did it? It took a few months after before hunting Ikutsuki became a goal and Takaya was … well, he wasn't a priority, but he was certainly someone he'd been hoping to find for a very long time.

Did they even come up with a proper group name? Even after years of the team's existence, they never had a proper name. He never really saw the point, especially given the fact that the less notoriety the better back then.

Now, they even have a name for him, The Blue-Oni! It was good to know that he's scared the hell out of more than a few daemons now if they're willing to name him. He must've been doing something right.

 _Snap_

Minato paused when he heard the sound of a twig snap in two. It sounded like it came from the right of him, leading to more trees and vegetation that had either frozen over or persevered through sheer stubbornness.

He'd seen this trick before. Anyone traveling knows to keep their eyes and ears open, so you wait for one to approach, snap a twig, and when they turn to look that way…

"Hands up," you come from the opposite direction.

Minato sighed before glancing to his left. Two men, one holding a revolver and another holding baseball bat, to his right, another one holding a small knife. The looks on their faces were of cocky grins; he wasn't the first person they had surrounded, and if they had it their way, he wouldn't be the last.

"I hope you have an army hidden," perhaps those words coming out of Minato's mouth were meant to be a warning, but instead it was just a long yawn; he should probably try taking more breaks. "… Because otherwise, this won't be very long."

"Taking long?" The one with a gun who was very likely the leader asked, waving his weapon around. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm aiming a gun at your forehead."

"Whatever," Minato kicked the snow beneath him. "Doubt it's even loaded."

"Not even—of course it's loaded!" The looter shouted, his gun shaking from the moments his body made in anger.

"Prove it," he challenged, "take your shot."

"What? I'm gonna waste a bullet!" He shouted back, earning a smirk from Minato.

"Well, see you later then," Minato was about to walk away again, but that only warranted another scream from the man holding the gun.

"S-S-Stop!" The leader screamed. "S-Stop talking! Enough of your mind games!"

"Games? Where?" Minato looked around left and right, forward and back. "All I see are children who daddy didn't hit hard enough."

The leader growled, pulling the hammer and cocking his gun. He really waited this long to have his weapon ready to kill?

"Just kill him already!" One of his friends shouted.

" _ **Grrr…"**_

"Well, you've done it now." A laugh left the bluenette's lips when he realized just how screwed they were.

"Done _what?_ "

"I'm host to a very old, very powerful, and really goddamn annoying primordial entity that makes even the likes of Nyarlathotep piss himself," the persona-user confessed, hearing the growls in his head get even louder. "Thing is, we're sorta life-linked at the moment. If I die, he'll find himself going into a glorified coma until another idiot decided to wake him up."

The group members all look at each other for a moment and laugh.

"R-Right," the leader wheezed, even putting down his gun for a moment when his sides started to hurt. "Never thought we'd end up robbin' a lunatic. Hey, while you're at it, I'm God!"

"In that case, I have a question," Minato cleared his throat, "why did you make our lower backs so wonky? Seems like a serious design flaw. And I thought incest was bad, what's with Adam and Eve?"

"W-W-What?" The leader didn't seem to understand a word of that.

"Sorry," Minato apologized, "my mother was Catholic. Tell you the truth; I don't even think she was born in Japan."

"Cath-what?" Nope, they didn't seem to be following that either.

Minato shook his head. Right, of course they wouldn't understand that. They probably didn't even know what actual Japanese sounded like either, only this gibberish that Nyarlathotep and Yaldabaoth made up.

"You know what?" The leader growled, "Screw this!" he said, finally pulling the trigger.

But that bullet was never going to reach its target.

"Did I mention he didn't like threats?"

In front of Minato was a large blade, with its main body having taken the bullet in his stead. The shooter froze, hearing loud animalistic growls coming from above him as he slowly followed the blade to its wielder's large, white hand and looked up to see large metallic jaws before they ended his life, crushing his head and using his body like a puppy's chew toy.

Opening his jaws, Death flung the now lifeless body into the same trees that he had originated from. He let out a loud shriek, whether this was intimidation or an act of expressing anger was anyone's guess.

Death looked at the one that he been holding the baseball bat, now running away with his tail between his legs and screaming like a child. But Death wasn't going to be slighted and let them live to tell the tale.

Holding his sword like one would hold a harpoon, Death launched the weapon, impaling the would-be looter before staking itself into the ground where the snow beneath it was stained a deep red.

The large monstrosity looked towards the final one who was also running away. Snow made everything so much easier—the poor sod barely made any headway, pushing through piles of white and the slippery ice beneath it.

All he had to do was completely freeze the snow around him into a solid prison and the soul was trapped, unless he decided to cut off his own legs, but then the blood loss would kill him in moments.

Death began walking forward, reaching out with his arm to call his blade back to him, leaving the deceased body there in the snow.

Before it could reach him, Death was suddenly halted. Translucent chains began wrapping all around him, especially its harms and throat, keeping him in place with the only proof of their existence being a faint blue-ish outline that radiated off of them.

"Back in your cage," Minato ordered the abomination that snarled in response, a prisoner angered by his warden, a slave being whipped by his master. But like a slave, there was nothing he could do but obey.

With one final hiss, Death faded away leaving only a puff of dark purple-ish mist that dissipated within seconds, leaving only Minato who was currently walking to the sole survivor of the monster's brief controlled rampage who was currently stabbing the ice around him, trying to break free.

"Told ya," Minato referred to his earlier words. Nothing short of an army of shadows and daemons were going to take him down… Actually, would even that do it? Eh, he supposed that he'd find out someday.

The would-be thief ignored him, hitting the ice as hard as he could in a desperate effort to break free. Unfortunately for him, Death wasn't going to make it easy for him to free himself. It's actually rather astounding if he can even feel his toes right now.

Minato clicked his tongue before reaching out and having his sword appear in his hand, which did more than enough to catch the thief's attention and cause to him cower in fear.

"If you got last words…" Minato paused for a moment.

"W-Wait!" He replied. Oh, right, here comes the begging.

"No," Minato replied instantly. "I'm not your first mark, am I? How many people are dead because of you again?"

"W-We ain't never killed nobody!" he was not good at defending himself.

"You dumbasses shot me," Minato deadpanned, fighting the urge to hit himself with the pummel of his sword. "Yeah, I definitely believe you. You're a murderer, so how many would I be damning if I let you go?"

The bluenette raised his sword, "See ya in Hell, Buddy."

"N-No! Please! Wa—" was all he could get out before his blood stained the snow beneath him.

* * *

" _Twenty-three, twenty-five, twenty-eight…"_ Minato thought, counting through the number of black coins he looted from the looters. Officially, these things only held weight at something Nyarlathotep or whoever-the-hell-his-champion-is sanction, and rewarded towns that they particularly liked with a load of them. Unofficially, they were the defacto currency out here.

Good thing he ran into those crooks when he did; he was running low.

What was this town's name? He lived on a tiny island most of his childhood and all of the signs had either been used to build shacks or had long ago been frosted over. Combine that with the fact that whatever maps are left are all in Japanese, they're going to be worthless to everyone soon.

How did they pull of killing the old language anyway? Probably by some magical crap that he didn't even want to try to understand; he was lucky it happened when he was so young otherwise he'd probably never get the new language down pat.

While thinking these idle thoughts, he finally arrived at yet another rundown presumably nameless town. Most of the buildings were coated in white, but that was to be expected.

A few small buildings, probably apartments that people are being used as homes. Wait, are those lights coming from some windows? They have electricity too? Interesting…

Down the (surprisingly shoveled) street was another large building with an open field and… and was that a kid playing in the snow? No, there were two of them! There were kids here? Sounds so minor, but seeing children was a rarity in most places, mostly due to unstable conditions and famine. Just how well off is this place?

Another building that looks well kept, and sounds rather lively; must be the social center of the place. Maybe that's where the adults were? Does that make the other building a school? The longer he's here, the more curious he becomes.

A few more besides that one social hub, maybe those were where the tailors and such work? After all, everyone needs clothes and shoes. Come to think of it, maybe he should visit there? Even if the cold was nothing to him compared to most, it still felt at least somewhat nippy.

With these thoughts in mind, Minato entered the building with his hands in his hoodie's pouch. Shockingly, he felt… warm. The air was actually _warm;_ this place had heaters working! Just how well off are these people?

Disregarding that shocking discovery, the place had been what he expected, with several articles of clothing out on display; not too much, but there probably weren't enough people living here or traveling to warrant it.

"Hello, wel—" the woman approaching halted her words, eyes widening when she caught sight of just who had entered her store. "O-Oh, I wasn't aware there was a visitor."

"Don't worry," Minato assured her, browsing through the items despite her shock. "I just got here."

The woman followed him like a shadow, not that he blamed her, and Lord knows just how common theft must be nowadays.

"How long will you be staying?" She asked with her voice being very soft, still following his every move.

"Not long," Minato answered, picking up a scarf. It looked hand-woven, with a pattern of yellow stripes with the majority of it being blue. "How much is this?"

The woman took a quick look at the scarf, taking it into her hands for a closer look and probably inspecting its quality before turning to say, "Hmm… three coins."

Minato reached into his pockets and handed some dark coins to her, "here's five, enjoy."

The woman let out a surprised, "O-Oh," before giving the scarf to the bluenette who wrapped it around his neck. Generosity was in short supply in today's world; it had to be cherished whenever it was found.

"By the way, I saw a few kids by the building down the street," Minato mentioned, walking to the door with the woman by his side. "Is that a school or something?"

"An orphanage, actually," the woman corrected him, smiling with a hint of pride in her voice, "the fates of children are often forgotten in hard times such as these. We've gather some parentless children and brought them here, giving them a warm bed, meals, and the best education we can, given the circumstances we are in, that is."

"Wow…" Minato actually had to blink in a moment in surprise. "This is actually topping my list on the least screwed up places I've been to so far."

"We hope to continue surpassing your expectations," the woman nodded, the proud smile still on her face.

"Would it be alright if I paid them a visit?"

"Hmm?" The smile went away and was now seemingly replaced with worry.

"I just… have a soft spot for 'em, you know?" Minato explained, trying to make what he said a lot less creepy. "I know what it's like to not have a family. I was an orphaned when I was seven."

"Oh," the woman's face looked relieved for a moment before she nodded again. "Of course, you may visit the children. They so rarely get any company… provided you're around the admin—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Minato shrugged it off, waving goodbye to the woman before walking out into the streets again.

So far, this place is actually pretty nice. The lady didn't even seem like a daemon either, and he hasn't noticed anything magical about this place.

At this point, however, it was almost scary. The last time he knew a town getting along with well, they were almost wiped out by a large group of feral shadows that Nyarlathotep and his daemons were 'too preoccupied' to protect them from.

Either that, or…

No, if they were that cold-blooded, then they'd have kicked the kids to the curb a long time ago. From his experience with the selfish and the selfless, children seem to be a sort of mirror into how they are. The monsters he'd seen always seemed to scorn children for whatever reason, or worse… send them to Kyoto.

Children were simple; they could become so many things if directed the right way. They could either be the ones to lead humanity, or become the pawns of those that came before.

Right now, children are the future, and the future sure looks as bleak as ever.

" _Ugh,"_ the man groaned, tugging at his hood. When in the hell did he get so focused on that subject? How old was he again, his mid-twenties? Could his brain be any less subtle?

Shaking those thoughts before they could unpack something he'd rather not go into, the bluenette decided to pay a visit to this little social hub. When he entered, once again, he felt warm air envelop him from the heaters.

Inside looked like a restaurant, probably one even before the world went to hell too. A few tables were scattered about and filled with people talking about… whatever it was that was going on around here.

Everyone seemed properly dressed, so no succubi. There didn't seem to be any incubi either… thank God.

Of course, his presence was soon met with dozens of silent stares from just about everyone.

" _Typical,"_ Minato rolled his eyes, keeping his hands in his pouch as he moved to the counter where someone was on the other side waiting.

"An outsider, eh?" The man asked the obvious. What was he, a waiter? Or was the term barista? He should really start learning restaurant terms.

"Just got here," the bluenette answered, pinching his nose before supporting his head with his elbow.

"About how long do you plan on staying?"

"Not long," Minato gave the same answer he gave before.

"Well, what _are_ you here for?" he dug a little deeper, trying to find out this outsider's intentions.

Minato slowly flexed the fingers in his right hand, cracking some of the joints in his fingers before answering, "Looking for someone."

The man at the counter scoffed, "Ain't that every man?"

Minato immediately groaned, "Oh, no…" he whined, "why'd you have to remind me of my love life now? Ugh… what a mess."

"Can't be _that_ bad," He assured him, but the bluenette only shook his head.

"First relationship was fine," Minato began his story, "I was young, she was young, short, had a nice head on her shoulders, and was just the cutest damn thing ever."

"So what happened?" He asked, pouring a drink and offering it to the hooded man who responded by giving a few coins his way.

"Eh, it just didn't work out." Minato shrugged, "no hard feelings. The second one though? Fucked up to hell!"

"The relationship or the break up?"

"Break up." Minato answered, slamming his head onto the counter. "Nice girl, stubborn as hell, and a figure that most girls would kill over."

The waiter clicked his tongue, "You poor thing."

"Yeah," Minato raised his head, rubbing the red spot that was now forming. "She uh… yeah, she didn't take it well. Although, I'm pretty sure it's over now. We're not kids anymore."

"What about the third?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Dump that one too?"

"Pft," Minato laughed, shaking his head. "No, she dumped me."

The restaurant worker cringed, almost like he could feel the sting from that.

"She was certainly… unique," Minato gulped when the memories flooded back in.

" _No, no, no, don't—"_

" _I have a Megidolaon for everyone!"_

"… and aggressive at times."

" _More! Give me more!"_

" _Liz, you're… chok-ing… me…"_

"… and strong," Minato shuddered. "Anyway, personal things happened, and she had to go."

The man just silently shook his head for a good minute, "Is there a fourth too?"

"Don't," Minato suddenly frowned and he had to fight this urge from stop his eyes from flaring. "Those three are fine. That one? Don't go there."

"Sorry," The man retreated, almost feeling the bluenette glaring daggers into him. "Anyway, who're you looking for?"

"Two people," the hooded man clarified, "Both males. One would be in his twenties or thirties, and the other… fuck, I dunno, old." He really should get a more in-depth report on Ikutsuki one of these days. "Anyway, there's Takaya who you would know at first glance; tall, weird eyes, and a voice smoother than goddamn wine."

The waiter titled his head, "and the second?"

Minato growled at the memory of the old man, "Ikutsuki. An old prick who... let's just say there's some bad blood there, and that's not even accounting for what he did to a friend of mine."

"I see…." He bit his lip, perhaps unsure how to proceed with the conversation. "Are you gonna drink that?"

Minato glanced at his untouched drink. He didn't even check to see what it was yet. "Fuck it," he cursed, standing up. "Give it to whoever, I already paid so it's on the house for them."

The hooded man didn't stay long enough for an answer, marching out of the store.

First he suddenly had thoughts about children, and then he remembers his love life, and now he's about to visit an orphanage… What the absolute hell? If he starts getting the urge to adopt and build a house somewhere, he's drawing the line.

When he approached the open field he saw the children at earlier, but now there were only footsteps in the bits of snow left behind that lead back to the building. Shame, he would've helped make that snowman they made. Personas make everything a lot easier if you know how to use them.

Following the tiny footsteps in the snow, Minato was led to the front door where he could hear the faint sounds of giggling from the other side.

Children laughing—how long had it been since he heard that? Last time he remembered a child laughing was during Nanako's…

No, not now—he didn't need that. The girl probably hates his guts now, and it's better to not think about it anymore than that.

Turning the knob on the door, Minato entered the building and enjoyed the same heaters the last two buildings had.

From the design of the place, it did look like it had been an actual school back before the apocalypse. At least, it looked like one from his somewhat limited memories of what elementary school was like.

No one was there but him at the front. Was whoever this administrator was with the kids? It'd certainly make sense.

Following the sounds of laugher, he eventually found a room with several kids scattered about, the oldest being maybe nine. There in the corner were three children in particular gathered around an adult who looked to be reading them a story, likely having to translate it for them… otherwise, who in the hell was translating children's books into the new common tongue?

"Um…" Minato looked at the door next to him and knocked loudly enough to get everyone attention. The woman stood up and immediately went to greet him.

"Good afternoon, you can call me Ms. Akane" the woman greeted warmly but with a hint of surprise in her voice, "I didn't know we were receiving a visitor today."

Minato shrugged, "Sorry, I guess I stopped by a little unannounced." He looked at all the children staring at him. There must've been what? Ten? Twelve? "Call me Arisato."

"Kids," Akane turned to the children, brushing back her brown locks, "say hi to Mr. Arisato."

All of the children spoke, some even waving, "Hi, Mr. Arisato."

Minato cringed, "Just Arisato, please," he pleaded, "I don't need to feel that old." His pleas were met with more giggles and more than a few agreements… made out to Mr. Arisato.

"Will you be staying with us long?" Akane asked.

Minato hummed for a moment, "You know, everyone seems to be asking me that lately."

Akane's face suddenly looked worried, "O-Oh, no! I-I mean, we don't get visitors often and—"

The man chuckled, pulling his hood down, "relax, I get it. I'd be more suspicious if you _weren't_ so paranoid," he assured her, instantly calming her. "Anyway, not long. I just wanted to pay the kids a visit before I leave."

Akane titled her head for a moment before suddenly brightening up, "Oh, are you looking to adopt?"

"By God, no," Minato denied instantly, shaking his head, "believe me, my life is screwed up as is. I do _not_ need that on my conscience," he for a moment shuddered at the idea. "Anyway, the reason I came was… well, I'm an orphan too. I guess you could say I have a special place in my heart for them."

"I see," Akane seemed to understand, looking back the children who went back to playing. Suddenly an idea came to mind, "Why don't you tell them about yourself? Or maybe your adventures? The poor children never get to go out."

"Um…" Minato thought for a moment. Weren't most of his 'adventures' really, really, really not safe for kids? Then again, what is in today's world? "I guess I could try."

"Splendid," Akane took Minato by the hand and sat him into the chair she had been sitting in a few moments ago to read them stories, with the children beginning to gather around just like before.

Oh, that cunning witch; she just gave herself a short break while he's the center of attention. He really should've seen this coming… Ah well.

"Um…" Minato cleared his throat. "I dunno your names, so you have to forgive me. Err… first question?"

A girl with long white hair raised her hand first and Minato pointed to her, "What's your name?"

The girl lowered her hand, and spoke softly with her cheeks looking like they were starting to redden; she probably not used to dealing with people she didn't know, "U-Um… m-m-m-my name is…" the poor girl was completely silenced once she heard her friends starting to snicker all around her.

Minato, however, frowned in response, "What's so funny?"

Suddenly, no one was laughing anymore?

"No, go on, tell me," He asked again, leaning forward and locking eyes with each and every one of them. "Was there something funny about someone getting a little nervous? Maybe I should start forcing you all to greet random strangers you don't know, see how well that goes?"

"No, Mr. Arisato," the children answered, their tones making it clear that the laughter had turned into solid feelings of guilt. Good, they'll teach them a lesson for the rest of the day, at least.

"Thought so," Minato smirked before turning his attention to the first girl. "Hey, c'mere," he beckoned her, which only caused her to redden more. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you, I promise."

The girl hesitated for a moment longer before standing and walking towards the bluenette. He urged her just a little closer before picking her up and setting her on his lap.

"There we go," he said, and he could practically feel the girl shaking from nervousness. Maybe he went a little too far? Of course, why give a nervous girl MORE attention?! Crap, he had to cheer her up fast!

"What's your name?" he restated his original question.

The girl looked down before letting out a weak response, "Saki…"

"Saki," he repeated, "That's a pretty name. Do you know what it means?"

Saki shook her head, which came as no surprise.

"The two syllables mean blossom and hope," he answered, hoping his knowledge of his native language hadn't gotten rusty with age.

"Really?" That seemed to pique the girl's interest and her trembling began to ease. Good, he's on the right track. Let's see if he can keep it up…

"So, how old are you?" He asked the girl, hoping that getting to know her would put her at ease.

"Seven," she answered proudly. How long ago was it when seven sounded like a big number? Great, now he really _does_ feel old.

"Seven, huh?" Minato smiled, "You know, I was seven when I lost my parents."

"That's sad…" Saki said, and he could swear she was making a puppy face with those light blue eyes of hers.

"Yeah, and I also didn't have all these _nice_ friends around me," he said, eyeing each and every one of them, "who are definitely feeling very guilty and are about to apologize."

The children grumbled for a moment before they each said, "Sorry, Saki…"

"Hehe," a giggle left the minor's lips before they curled into a smile. Good, now she's comfortable.

"Now," He turned his attention back to her, "what did you want to ask?"

"Um…" Saki thought for a moment before coming out with, "what do you do when you travel?"

Minato thought for a moment, wanting to word this as child-friendly as possible, "I… try to find bad people."

Saki looked worried for a moment, "Is there anyone bad here?"

Minato shrugged, "None that I can tell. What about you?"

The girl shook her head, denying anyone 'bad' being in her town.

"Then you're fine," he reassured the girl. He said something worrying, so maybe he should follow it up with a compliment? Is that what he's supposed to do?

 _"Jesus, I'm terrible with kids..."_

"I like your ribbon," he said, referring to the ribbon that had been tied into her hair. It didn't tie it back in a ponytail or anything; it just seemed to be tied to a clump of hair just for appearances.

Saki seemed to blush for a moment, "Thank you."

"Any more questions?" he asked, looking at everyone again, "anyone?"

Another kid raised their hand and the man called on them, "Have you ever seen a dragon?"

"A dragon?" Minato repeated and the boy nodded.

A dragon, well... there was Seth.

"Um… sorta?" Minato bobbed his head, "I mean… yeah, I guess you could say he's a dragon."

"Whoa…" The kids were clearly impressed.

"Next question?" Minato called the next girl.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

" _Oh, come on!"_ Minato screamed mentally. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

"That was something," Minato murmured, rotating his neck that had gone stiff from sitting down so long.

"I think they liked you," Akane complimented, standing with him to see him out.

Minato scoffed, "Give it a few years; they'll hate me."

Akane laughed, probably not noticing that he was only half-joking. Xenophobia was pretty much the norm, and for good reason.

"Will you be coming back to us?" Akane asked, but the bluenette shook his head.

"Probably not, no," he answered, knowing full well just how much of a drifter he's become.

Akane was about to say something, but hesitated before her smile suddenly dropped and her expression became much more grave.

"What is it?" Minato asked, waiting for her to speak up.

Akane cleared her throat and began whispering, "Arisato, would any of the people you're looking for be the head of any… cults, by any chance?"

"Cults?" there was one person he knew that was enough of a nutcase to join much less lead a cult. "Where is it?"

"A few days south west from here," she answered, constantly looking to the side to make sure none of the children were eavesdropping. "I heard they like to gather in… well, not really a building, just makeshift one made from old signs and whatever they could get their hands on."

"Hmm…" That certainly sounded right. It wasn't Ikutsuki, but you got to save the best for last, right? "Thank you, that's been… most helpful."

He hardly said any farewells before rushing out the door in the direction he was pointed in. Takaya might not mean much in the grand scheme, but… well, he owed it to an old friend of his to send that bastard to hell.

" _You're not getting away this time, Takaya,"_ Minato swore, and he could hear the monster in his head chuckling at the idea of sending another to their graves.

* * *

 **Whew, this took a while... my day, I mean. Compared to that long pause that happened, this is nothing.**

 **So, a lot of you probably noticed that Minato pretty much gave 0 fucks that 3 people just died, huh? Keep in mind, this is normal for him. He's been alone for 4 years, and lived with the apocalypse since he was 7. He has his own morals that he adheres to now, and that's not even talking about his plus one.**

 **This got a lot dialogue heavy than I originally intended. Ah well, it happens, I guess. Probably wouldn't call this one of my best chapters, if only because it exists solely for buildup, but I did what I can.**

 **Oh God, now I'm just imagining Liz strangling Minato during the deed at that one part… pft. Oh, yeah, Minato's dated everyone at some point; Fuuka, Yukari, Liz, and Mitsuru. I guess that excludes Ai-chan, but… robot.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Mpyrkh: Well, he didn't date them all at the same time. But yeah, he got around.**

 **Callmecrazylol: That… wasn't even intentional, but okay, I'll roll with it.**

 **Inchinaruko: Told you, everyone is accounted for here. And Phil's not gone, after all, as long as literally anyone exists, so will he (same logic with Nyarlathotep).**

 **I'm tempted to just name this chapter 4.5, but… well, that'd get confusing should I ever decide to edit the chapter or any of the later ones, so whatever. This is really just the rest of chapter 4, but even before I wrote it, I knew it was going to take too long (hence the warning about the abrupt Minato-focus) so I just decided to cut it into two chapters.**

* * *

 _Fire…_

 _There's fire all around him._

 _The bluenette coughed, having inhaled the smoke coming from the flames. His head is pounding on the left side; he must've hit it on the door._

 _His body aches, barely able to move his little arms and hands to fiddle with the seat belt keeping him restrained._

 _He's sees two bodies in front of him; skin charring and burning away to ashes. The sight was horrible, but the smell of burning flesh was worse. But the worst part was that he knew he was watching his family burn in front of him._

 _After several minutes of trying, he finally undoes the seat belt, causing him to fall to his right, hitting the ground shoulder-first. The car must've flipped over._

" _Ugh," he groans, seeing his reflection in the shattered in glass. The right side was facing the ground; he was going to have to climb his way out._

 _And climb he did, grabbing onto the seats, doing his best to ignore the burning sensation he felt in his hands until he managed to jump up and reach the door._

 _Holding on as tightly as he could, he positioned his feet on the headrest for leverage, slowly managing to open the door enough for him to crawl out of._

 _Pulling himself up, he finds himself atop the left side of the car before shortly falling and hitting the ground again, this time actual ground made of asphalt and concrete._

 _He looks back at the burning car again and slowly crawls away, never taking his eyes off it as everything he knew slowly began erasing itself, and would soon be forgotten as if it were never there._

 _He hears low chuckling and he turns his head. He sees what could only be described as a ghost with chains around what appeared to be its neck and an unsettling grin that seemed to stretch too far._

 _But there's someone else._

 _He couldn't get a good look, but he saw it clear as day—amber eyes standing there watching him._

* * *

"Ugh," Minato groaned, slowing flexing his fingers to loosen his stiff joints one at a time. He tried moving his arms, only to find them hitting something solid.

Shaking his head for a moment, he opened his eyes and found himself surrounded by snow.

"Right," he whispered in a raspy morning voice. It was getting late, so dug a little tunnel in a mountain of snow so that he'd have shelter for the night. It worked, even if it was cold as hell.

Bringing his arm forward and then the next one, slowly bringing himself out of the tunnel and into the outside world. He barely had any room to move his legs, even to do something as simple as crawl out of here. Finding his entrance having become blocked overnight, he's forced to push the snow out until he pushed too far and felt his hand become exposed to the cold air.

When he finally pokes his head out, he was reminded just why he dug that little tunnel in the first place. Even with Jack Frost shielding him from the worst of it, the cold stung his skin and he was forced to close his eyes again immediately when the snow hit his eyes.

It had started snowing late last night, and it would appear that the light flurry had transformed into a heavy blizzard overnight, so bad that he could hardly see five feet in front of him, and the wind howled in his ear, making the cold chill even worse.

"Ah shit," Minato cursed, crawling out of the tunnel and standing up as best he could. The wind was strong enough that he had to fight against it because it threatened to push him off balance and knock him down.

He hated traveling in blizzards, but it looks like he didn't have much of a choice this time.

" _She better not have lied to me."_ He growled as he pushed his way through the snow, losing his footing and slipping on multiple occasions.

Even if it takes him all day, that bastard was going to die tonight.

But first things first, he needed to get his things.

Slowly dragging his legs through the endless amounts of white and shielding his eyes from snow that continued to fall, he came across a tree that he had marked by a knife stabbed into it—something he had done last night before going to sleep.

It was his a rule he made; always keep your things away from camp and outside of towns or cities unless you're _absolutely_ certain that you can trust that your supplies cannot be stolen.

Letting the dagger de-materialize, he lowered himself and dug from beneath the tree until he felt his hands grab a strap from underneath. Taking hold of the strap, Minato pulled hard and out came a duffel bag almost completely covered in snow.

Opening up the zipper, he reached inside and pulled out some bread that was now stiff and cold. He got this from one of the traveling merchants going around courtesy of the god he hates most.

Still, food was food. Where it came from certainly didn't stop him from shoving what little he had left into his mouth and devouring it.

Zipping up his bag again and setting the strap on his shoulder, he continued marching south-west.

He could almost swear that his skin was going to start breaking off from all the cold, Jack Frost or not. It looked like even Personas had limits when it came to withstanding the harshness of their environments.

" _Keep… pushing…"_ he urged himself. He had to—he owed it to them to keep on pushing. If he's going to die for his sins someday, so be it, but he's not dying to a goddamn blizzard.

Despite his efforts to conserve his personas' strength, he found himself having to quickly switch to a more fire-oriented persona to melt the snow in front of him so that he could move more freely. The transition always hurt like hell since most of his fire-based personas were either weak to the cold or didn't have the same resistance that Jack Frost and his ilk had, which meant a lot of pain coming from a blizzard.

His stomach continued to growl at him. He probably should've shopped at the restaurant or something before he decided to just start traveling to a place that he had no idea exactly how far it was.

" _Crap,"_ he thought as the idea that he might have been tricked came to mind. Fuck, was he so caught up in a lighthearted mood that he let his guard down enough to be tricked?

He began thinking about turning back when he thought he saw something. There in the distance, there was… something. He couldn't quite make it out, as the blizzard just made it out to seem like a spot that was slightly darker than everything else, but it was large enough to raise suspicion.

Dragging himself closer, the image got clearer and clearer; it looked like some kind of glorified church made entirely out of salvaged materials—signs, car parts, along with other things he couldn't recognize. It looked like he hit the jackpot!

Finding the closest thing resembling a door he could see, he fought against the wind and slowly pried the door open before practically leaping into the building with the 'door' slamming behind him.

Minato panted as he lied on the floor, closing his eyes and letting his body slowly begin to warm up again now that his body was out of the snow and strong winds.

Standing back on his feet and breathing into his hands, he looked around to find various makeshift beds all around him, complete with blankets and what he could only assume to be pillows. Judging by the noises he heard above the howling wind from outside, he could only assume the cultist or fanatic or whatever they call themselves were currently in the middle of a sermon or something.

In that case, he needed to get something out first. Reaching back into his bag, he pulled out a thick book and turned the pages until he found the one he desired.

Chuckling to himself, he moved to the second door that he assumed led to where the sermon was taking place.

"Time for a nasty surprise, Takaya…"

He kicked the door as hard as he could, tearing off or destroying whatever it was that held it in place and causing it to fall onto the floor, and the sermon that had been going on suddenly ceased.

Minato walked in and surveyed the room.

" _Seven, ten, fourteen,"_ he then eyed the man at the altar, _"fifteen."_

"Hello, Takaya," he greeted the man like he would an old friend. The man was pale, almost to the point where Minato once considered him to be an albino if not for his yellow eyes. He was dressed heavily for the winter, not surprising considering last he heard, his body had been ravaged by whatever Ikutsuki did to him and the meds he'd been taking to survive.

Of course, he also had the mother of all shocked faces.

"I don't see Jin anywhere," Minato noted the absence of his right-hand man, "So I _did_ rupture his spleen last time, right? Ouch, painful way to go—shame we don't have hospitals anymore."

"Y-Y-You…" Takaya was trembling at the surprise appearance of the Blue-Oni. Good, this meant he finally learned what it meant to fear something.

Of course, the other fourteen members were confused and standing, presumably prepared to defend their… bishop? Priest? Cardinal? Whatever Takaya was, they wanted to help him.

Still holding the book in one hand, Minato reached into his bag and tossed a gem onto the floor, shattering it and causing all the members to gain pink irises.

"Go home and rethink your life," he ordered, and one-by-one they all left, leaving Minato with a zealot who was still paralyzed with fear.

"Speak up," Minato laughed.

"W-what…" his trembling lip just made it all the sweeter for the Blue Demon, knowing that one of the men he hated most was right there and cowering before him. "W-what are you…?"

"Of course I'd come. You're spreading the word of Nyarlathotep, and," Minato smirked, lowering his head so that his hood and the low lighting hid his face—all except his glowing blue eyes as he read from the book in his hand and slowly stepped forward, "'And ye shall overthrow their altars, and break their pillars, and burn their groves with fire; and ye shall hew down the graven images of their gods, and destroy the names of them out of that place.'"

He stopped when he was but arms-length away from the altar when he closed his book and put it back in his back, glaring the sickly man. "That, and… well, I still owe you for what you did to Shinjiro, yarou."

Feeling the tension in the air rising and knowing full well just who/what he was up against, Takaya chose to run as fast as he could, running out the side entrance and into blizzard that Minato had escaped from just moments ago.

" _Well, this won't be long."_

In a panicked frenzy, Takaya continued to trip and fall as he tried to escape the demon following him. He knew he couldn't win—last time he tried, Jin sacrificed himself for him.

"'Throw out the worthless slave into the outer darkness; in that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.'" Takaya looked back, and saw Minato walking towards him, quoting a line by heart. "And here you are: Nyarlathotep's slave and you're _already_ weeping."

Takaya turned back and clutched his head, screaming in pain as his persona materialized in front him: Hypnos, the god of sleep with wings painfully grafted onto his back.

Seeing this as his only chance, Takaya put all of his strength into one attack of pure fire, believing that the persona he must be using to survive the cold must at least be non-resistant to Agi-spells. If he could just stun him, then maybe—

All these hopes were dashed when the ball of fire that he cast was suddenly sent right back at him, engulfing him and searing his flesh, forcing his persona to retreat from the damage.

When the dust settled and the vapors from the snow faded, Minato was revealed holding an object in his hand.

"Magic mirror," Minato said, tossing the now worthless object aside. The major downside to these oh-so-great objects was that they were one-use only. "Not a good idea to go full power right off the bat. Your opponent might have trick or two ready."

Takaya could only wheeze, feeling his entire body coursing with more and more pain whenever he tried to move. Every time a muscle tensed, he felt the urge to scream in agony.

It was… gratifying to say the least —at the same time, a little underwhelming.

That's it? Just one strike and he's down? He knew that he out-classed Takaya, but that's it?

Still, Shinjiro could rest easy now. If only Ken was here to watch this bastard burn, then it'd be perfect, maybe even poetic.

Although, Takaya was favored by Nyarlathotep's champion, for whatever reason. If that's the case, then maybe he might know something?

"Before you die, tell me something," Minato ordered, stepping on his charred abdomen that forced a scream out of the older man, "Where's Ikutsuki? Don't tell me you don't know."

The younger man pressed his boot harder against the burnt skin, alleviating it for a moment with both that and his hateful gaze serving as a warning to start talking before things get ugly.

But his response wasn't what he was expecting…

Instead of whimpers, more wheezes, or even more screams or curses, Takaya was… laughing? The hell?

"What's so funny?"

"Y-You came from… Minashigo-in… I assume…" The would-be priest said.

"Minashigo-inn?" He repeated. Terrible name, but its meaning was clear; it was saying the place was a home to orphans… and he just came from—

"You see it!" Takaya laughed again as Minato's face paled. "If you found me…" he continued, fighting through the pain he felt with every word, "Despite our secrecy… it must mean…. He told them… there's… no one else… who knew… except our Lord and… His champion…"

And if he told them…

"Oh my God." He had to be lying… he had to be. He took off the moment he learned about Takaya and—

"Tell Ahaziah's soldiers I said hello, manko." Minato turned his head away, snapping his fingers and setting the bastard ablaze again, forcing him to scream in agony again.

Normally, Minato would stay to watch him be reduced to ash. But now? Now he had to know!

Screw tiring himself out, he just began burning all the ice and snow in front him so that he could take off as fast as he could, discounting the wind.

" _No, no, no,"_ he kept repeating in his head as his heart continued to race.

He didn't just leave when Ikutsuki was right there, waiting for the right moment.

He didn't just take the bait he left for him, hook line and sinker.

He didn't just leave and damn other orphans to die alone and in pain because of the man he despised above all else.

* * *

 **Well, shit. Mistakes have been made. To be fair to Minato here, remember that Ikutsuki is a master manipulator (judging by P3 anyway).**

 **Sorry if killing Takaya feels underwhelming, but… well, what can I do with him? His persona's design makes fights hard, his body is a mess, and his** _ **gun**_ **kinda ruins fights. Same with Jin! Chidori is… I dunno, probably drawing something… if she ain't dead (I haven't decided yet).**

 **Speaking of drawing, here's this artwork made by Wes80 of DA herself! sta . sh/0b8vxp4klmw**

 **For the uninitiated, Wes is currently my main… okay, ONLY co-author after Anon moved on due numerous reasons (no falling out; just moving on). We primarily co-author Fallen Hero (her idea, I got it started with the first few chapters, and now she mostly writes while I proof-read and help plan things out together), but with OAC, I write, we both help plan, and she's the person who tells me when I'm doing something dumb. That and drawing amazing artwork apparently; I cannot stress it enough, thank you Wes!**

 **As for the drawing itself… well, the whole "my mother was Catholic" thing was meant to be a joke, then we started seeing opportunity for him to troll people with verses, and now she drew a Catholic priest version of Minato. It… is…. Glorious.**

 **Oh my god, now I'm just imagining him in Templar armor or dressed as a Teutonic Knight.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Callmecrazylol: I don't know if you'll actually get to see Messiah in this fic. I mean, Death's still in Minato's guts, so no (actual) persona Thanny, meaning no Orpheus-Thanatos fusion for Messiah.**

 **Ichinaruko: I need to clarify: Takaya had friends in high places (Nyar's champion and/or Ikutsuki), Nyar himself couldn't give a fuck about him. As for the P4 crew… yeah… uh… you'll see… eventually… Only hint you're getting is Nanako absolutely despises Minato… probably. Maybe. I dunno. We both know I lie a lot and/or change my mind a lot. By the way, I am still a sadist. I just show at… more opportune moments.**

 **AmeYuuki: Oh, I know. Never got to play PQ myself, but I know the big scene. I wonder if PQ2 has anything remotely similar to that? Eh, probably not.**

 **Fun Fact: I am now taking Duolingo classes to learn Japanese… and it's fucking tough. I can't even learn Spanish, why am I doing this to myself?**

 **Also, a little warning… shit happens. Seriously, I wanted to keep this story rated T, but after what I just wrote? Welcome Order and Chaos to the rated M club.**

* * *

"Ugh," Minato's knees nearly gave, forcing him to stumble onto the ground beneath him after hours upon hours of endless running. He tried moving again, but his body screamed at him and the adrenaline he had coursing through his veins wore off ages ago.

He didn't even have the energy to use another healing spell on himself and he'd been overexerting himself to the point that even the personas he had that could heal passively couldn't do much for him anymore with how much damage he'd done to himself.

At the same time, he couldn't afford to waste any time just because his body didn't want to keep going anymore.

"No more," Minato coughed, reaching out for another object out of his bag only to find nothing that he'd want. How many healing items had he wasted on this? The number was too high to count. He would probably hate himself if he knew the exact number.

His body was a wreck and he was completely exhausted and sweating in what could easily be subzero temperatures. All of this in the name of some kids he just met briefly a few days ago.

Of course he did. Either he was an idiot, or Ikutsuki knew him better than he thought. Jumping the moment he heard about Takaya and then completely destroying himself trying to get back. Talk about taking the bait…

" _ **Tch, humans are so fragile,"**_ The parasite scoffed. **_"We both know he's not going to just wait for you to kill him, yes?"_**

Biting his lip, Minato's body scream and wailed at him, trying to force him to rest before he destroyed his muscles any more than he already has.

"Didn't know you…" Minato coughed out, trying to catch enough of his breath before taking off again, "wanted him gone so badly."

" _ **If there's one thing in which I find most insufferable about your kind, it's your hubris,"**_ Death replied, the venom in his voice showing his usual contempt for all of humanity and its creations, _**"He DARED to think I'd not only spare him, but award him kingship of the new world that'd be born once I've cleansed it of your kind; such an insult cannot go unpunished."**_

"Pft." Minato rolled his eyes before taking off as fast as he physically could, continuing to use his personas to melt the snow in front of him as best they could. The damn thing sure was a selfish pain-in-the-ass creature, but at least they agreed on one thing: Ikutsuki needs to die.

Luckily for him, the blizzard that had been plaguing the area relentlessly had begun to ease up slightly. It was still snowing heavily and the wind was as brutal as ever, but the fog that had taken place had partially lifted, enough that he could see the orphanage in the town from where he was standing, he just needed to push a little bit more.

Gritting his teeth, Minato continued to push his way through the snow until he finally managed to make it to the front door. Everyone else was probably locked inside their homes waiting for the storm to pass, so no one was going to notice him swinging the door open and throwing himself inside.

"Kuso," Minato cursed under his breath, slamming the door shut before leaning against the wall to finally take some of the weight off his legs. For the first time, he was finally able to rest with his personas finally having time to heal the damage he had done to himself.

All he could hear was the sound of him panting heavily in the dark building; the lights either having been turned off or whatever means of gaining electricity they had didn't work so well in a snowstorm. Whatever the case, he was left shuffling in the darkness for now.

Minato was finally able to set his bag aside, but not before pulling out a small pink gem in case someone else was in here as well. Losing the extra weight sure made his shoulder feel a lot better, although his legs had gone numb from pain to the point that he didn't even feel anything there.

Times like this reminded him of his life before the apocalypse. He was a quiet kid most of the time, but that didn't stop him from getting into fights occasionally.

What was that Father liked to say to him? "You got a lot of heart, but you start using it with your head."

"Heh," he chuckled. He had to admit, the old man sure knew him pretty well. One could only wonder what he'd do if he was here right now. Probably tell him off for how stupid he was right before telling him to get back on his feet.

"Hello?" speaking of which…

Minato turned to the speaker in question and saw the same woman who had greeted him before, Ms. Akane.

"Akane," he returned the greeting, noting the look of fear and surprise in her eyes. Her hands are shaking; she's nervous, not just surprised. That's all the confirmation he needs to know she has a dirty little secret.

"A-Arisato," she said his name with a trembling lip, taking a step back. Her eyes began scanning the room before focusing on a pair of scissors. They were made for children so they weren't great for cutting, but anything can cause damage if used the right way.

"Catch." Minato tossed the pink gem in the woman who instinctively tried to catch it, only for it to call and shatter on the floor, turning her irises pink.

"Where did the children go?" Minato asked, knowing full well he was going to get an honest answer.

Akane blinked before answered in a deadpanned voice, "We gave them away to an old man who required them for his research."

"This man," Minato coughed out, punching himself in the chest as he tried to breathe again, "Was it Shuji Ikutsuki?"

"I do not know for certain, as he did not give his exact name," Akane answered. Makes sense enough; spreading your name around wasn't a good way to remain hidden. "However, I believed that the man you are looking for and he are the same."

"And the cult you sent me after?" Minato rubbed his legs, biting his lip as he began to feel the soreness in his muscles again. It was painful, but it was an improvement over what it once was.

"He told me to send anyone matching certain descriptions that way."

"Those descriptions being…?" Minato waited for an answer.

"A young redheaded man with a scar on his face and another man with blue hair and a fringe that covered almost half of his face," she answered.

"How many kids have you done this to? More importantly, who else in this town knew?"

"I have not kept count." Akane's answer couldn't help but make Minato's stomach churn. She couldn't even keep count? How many children are dead because of her?

"When the man approached us, he came bearing gifts from Lord Nyarlathotep," she explained, "he said he could give us more, enough for us to live comfortably again and perhaps even a chance to become citizens of one of His cities someday. We merely needed to provide him with research subjects and we would be given compensation, even if his research ended in failure."

"And the town?"

"We voted on it as a community," she explained, "voting was mandatory for all residents and the votes were unanimous. We began sending people out to search for the unwanted."

"Unwanted?" Minato growled, standing back on his feet and glared at her with his eyes beginning to flash in response. "Is that what you call them?"

"They are orphans," Akane answered immediately, not even showing a shred of sympathy or regret. Gem or no gem, she could still show… something to show she was reluctant to act, but it simply wasn't there. "Even in the old world, they were seen as a burden on the families that took them, were they not? We took the unwanted and gave them a purpose."

"You sick fucks…" Minato barked, forcing himself to stand again now that his body was given enough time to recover. "So everyone agreed? Find and give kids a home before sending them to their deaths?"

"We thought it best," Akane responded. "They had no future. Now, we could have one and raise children of our own with His favor."

Minato bit his lip and clenched his fists, fighting the temptation to tear her to pieces then and there. Giving away innocent children just so they could live without it being so hard for them? That was it? That was their reason?

It should be natural for him now, shouldn't it? People were horrible, self-serving creatures but also opportunistic. They saw a chance to rise above what they were and they went for t, no matter what price they had to pay and no matter how repulsive the request was.

Hell has a special place for monsters such as them, but now wasn't the time to send them there.

"Where are they?"

"He used to come here and take them himself, claiming that he was bringing them on a field trip." Akane's irises were beginning to dim and the pink in her eyes was beginning to fade away as the gem began wearing off. "But this time was different. He sent a message a few weeks earlier that he wanted me to deliver them myself."

Minato lunged at her, grabbing her by the throat and pinning her against the wall, just in time for her eyes to change back. Where she had once possessed a blank expression and whose voice reflected the appropriate apathy, now she was up against the wall, eyes darting across the room as she futilely tried to push him away as the fear of what he'd do to her began to settle in more and more.

"Look at me." Akane felt her throat begin to be crush, briefly restricting her ability to breathe until she complied and stared into his bright blue eyes. "You're going to lead me to them…"

* * *

As time progressed, the blizzard died down more and more.

The howling and strength of the winds had begun to deteriorate so that moving was far more manageable than it had been before, something that Minato was thankful for as he was unsure if he was ready to face the full strength of a whiteout like that again, especially in his current condition.

"Quit screwing around, _walk,_ " Minato snapped at Akane, frustrated at the slow pace she had been moving at.

She said nothing in return, but the rate at which her legs did increase. She's already lucky that she's still in one piece after what she did, she knows better than to push her luck any further.

He could see her shivering from the cold, not having had the time to prepare properly for the weather, but so be it. Monsters like her didn't get any sympathy from him. Far as he's concerned, this is what she deserves.

Eventually, she stopped in front what looked like steps leading into some sort of bunker. From one of the olden days, or something Ikutsuki had himself with the help of his friends? Who could tell and more importantly, who cared?

" _ **Tear her apart…"**_

"This is?" He asked.

" _ **End her…"**_

"Yes," Akane nodded in confirmation, turning towards him as she spoke.

" _ **DO IT…!"**_

"When I came here, he was waiting for me and—" her words were cut off when she felt a stabbing pain in her stomach.

Minato wrapped one hand around her throat and used his other to push his dagger deeper, keeping his eyes focused on hers as he watched them become teary and full of pain.

"Here's what I'm going to do," Minato kept his voice low and calm as he twisted the knife in her, ignoring her screams and wheezing as she attempted to claw at his hands that quickly became slick with blood, "I'm going to cut you open like a pig, and then I'm going to leave you here. You're die, slowly and painfully. Either from shock from the blood loss or—even better—your body will slowly begin to freeze as you become covered snow, and later on, even perhaps even become coated in ice."

Minato tilted his head, smiling at the woman who continued to wail and writhe in pain, "look on the bright side, you finally get to see what you look like from the inside."

Twisting the knife just a little bit more, the Blue-Oni slide the knife from one end of her stomach to the other, cutting her open and exposing some of what he assumed would be her small intestines before letting her go and fall to the snowy floor.

" _ **Hehe..."**_ The chuckling echoed throughout the bluenette's ears as he saw and heard the woman scream, tears falling down her cheeks, saliva spilling all over her pretty face from all her wailing, twisting and turning with her hands on her wound, trying to force everything back where it's supposed to be, but unable to do so as her hands were too slippery and her movements were unsteady from all the agony she was in.

She was still letting out shrieks when he descended down the stairs, taking an object and breaking it in half, keeping one piece with him while throwing another on the ground before he entered the bunker.

* * *

When he stepped inside, Minato was greeted to the familiar sensation of heating from the ventilated air. Hung along the walls was various small lights that illuminated the path ahead of him, making it seem as if it were one long tunnel.

The tunnel was too narrow for any of his personas to materialize here for combat. He could still infuse his weapons with magic or use any of his gem if the need arises though.

"Where are you?" Minato voiced his thoughts out loud, knowing he'd never receive an answer.

He kept traversing down the long tunnel until he was greeted by another barred door. It looked like it was made of steel if he had to make any guess and god-knows how thick it was. Judging by its appearance and the lack of any way to open from this end, it probably had an electronically controlled locking mechanism. It was definitely not something that someone could normally break through.

Taking a few steps back, readied a blue-ish gem. These ones backed a lot of power, so he had to pick the dimmest one he had, lest he risk the roof collapsing on top of him.

However, before he could throw it, the door suddenly unlocked, opening as if to welcome its newest visitor.

"Waiting for me, huh?" Minato shook his head as he entered the room. Ikutsuki really _did_ know him better than he thought.

Within the room, he was greeted almost immediately by… another door; same sort of locking mechanism and everything. To his right, however, a large monitor...

"Glad to see you after all these years," the monitor flickered to life, revealing the smug image of an old man whose eyes were hidden from the light reflecting off his glasses.

"Wish I could say it was mutual," Minato returned, crossing his arms. "Of course, if you were to come here and allow me to put my hands around your throat…"

"You've certainly grown colder with time," Ikutsuki noted, pushing up his glasses and showing the eyes that had been hidden before. "Perhaps—"

"Shut up and tell me where the kids are." He wasn't in the mood to hear any puns or play his game. "What did you do to them?"

"Me? Nothing," Ikutsuki raised his hands for a moment before quickly putting them back down. "I merely sent them to navigate my little labyrinth."

"And…?" Minato narrowed eyes as he glared at the old man.

"We've shared this world with shadows openly for… almost twenty years now," Ikutsuki said, his voice making sound almost like this was a good thing. Hell, to him, it probably _was_ a good thing. "However, I always wondered, how do shadows—more specifically the feral ones—react when they're forced to interact with, say, children under the age of ten."

"You what?!" He didn't just send them in a labyrinth; he sent them to their tombs.

"I already learned that at such a young age, they cannot develop shadow selves." Ikutsuki seemed to be flipping through some notes off the screen as he spoke. "So I became curious, how did shadows react to them? How did they react to shadows? I must say, the answer was quite disappointing."

"You… killed them…" he slowly said the words.

How many were there, nine or maybe ten innocent boys and girls, torn to pieces by monsters by a madman. All of those children, sentenced to death, all so a town could have a more 'comfortable' life. They died, crying out the name of the woman who gave them away to their executioner.

"Oh no, not all of them," Ikutsuki shook his head, his eyes shifting, likely towards another monitor on his end. "It would appear that one of them is still alive in the labyrinth."

A few more clicks were heard and the pressing of keys, and suddenly the door to the labyrinth was open. "I suggest you hurry."

Minato hissed at the old man, extending his hand and drawing an arming sword before running into the children's tomb with the door quickly closing behind him.

The tunnels were as narrow as the ones before, except these were much darker with less lighting providing much less visibility. How many of them died simply because the shadows' dark forms were too hard to see?

No, it was better not to think about that.

It was better not to think at all.

Right now, the last survivor was in danger, and he had to find them before it was too late.

He rushed through the halls, marking the ground with his sword with each turn to ensure he didn't get lost or go in circles.

He didn't know how far these tunnels went or if he was going the right way. If only he had someone like Fuuka here and he'd be able to find the survivor in a flash.

If there even is a survivor—for all he knows, that could have been another lie that Ikutsuki made. At the same time, he knew that it was one that wasn't a risk he could take.

As he approached a crossroads, something caught his ear—a hissing noise.

Minato immediately ducked, dodging a shadow that had leapt into the air in an effort to grab him.

The blob-monster hit the floor, with its body twisting and contorting as it tried to do the simple action of turning around to face him again.

Before it could however, it found itself being stabbed by the Blue-Oni's blade, forcing out one last shriek from the creature before it faded away.

" _Weak…"_ Minato pulled back his blade that had been partially stabbed into the ground. It made sense they were so feeble in strength; it was already a mystery how Ikutsuki got them here, but it was doubtful this little maze of his could contain any of the higher-level shadows out there. They were weak, but still strong enough to kill an unprepared person, or…

Minato turned his head towards where the shadow had come from, and he quickly wished he hadn't.

He covered his mouth by instinct, looking away and forced the air down his throat so that he didn't end up suffocating himself.

Was that…?

No, the blood is already congealed. This one has been dead for a while, but the last one is still alive… they had to be.

"May you find the peace you deserved in the afterlife," Minato prayed for the lost boy whose body continued to lie motionless on the floor, and who will soon be forgotten by everyone but a select few, "and I'm sorry that I couldn't save you too."

He could blame Ikutsuki all he wanted, but he killed them too. He's the one that left them to fall into their hands.

It was his stupidity that caused all of this and now he was going to have to learn how to live with himself.

Shaking his head, he kept on moving through the warren that Ikutsuki made.

He was going to have to hurry now; killing one of their own is bound to get the rest of the shadows riled up. They're going to be far more aggressive now.

 _Drip_

 _Drip_

 _Drip_

The ichor on his sword continued dripping from his blade onto the floor at increasing frequency as he found himself face-to-face with more and more shadows.

The place was like a nest for these things. Maybe it was. He didn't know exactly what caused shadows to suddenly appear, so maybe this actually was a nest for these things.

What was that tower back at home? Tartarus they called it? He hasn't been there in… he didn't know how many years. Have any of the others ever gone back there? A question to be answered later or maybe even never.

The hooded man stopped when he stepped in another trail of blood. This was relatively fresh, but also too large for a child… at least, one who's long to live.

He looked to the opposite direction of the trail and saw another shadow slowly creeping up on him. One slash of his sword was all it took to take it down, but not before he noted the blood on its talons.

Swallowing hard, he continued following the trail of blood and the sounds of wheezing grew louder and louder as he approached.

It didn't take long for him to find the person making all the noise. The little girl was just sitting there against the wall, clutching a wound on her stomach as she slowly bled to death.

She had raven hair and green eyes—Aimi, he believed her name was.

Her breath quickened as he approached, forcing him to lower his hood and crouch down next to her and whisper, "It's all right, it's all right. I'm not going to hurt you."

Her breathing didn't slow, but now her eyes were beginning to fill up with tears. Her skin was as white as a ghost and he could swear, he could almost feel life leaving her body as he placed his own hands over her wound.

She was too far gone to be healed. The best he could do was comfort her before she passed on.

"It's going to be alright," he kept whispering to her, keeping an ear out for any shadows that may be approaching.

Aimi tried speaking, but the pain mixed with the weakness in her voice made it all come out as an unintelligible whisper.

"What?" Minato leaned in closer, close enough that he could feel the chill of death's embrace wrapping around her.

Aimi continued to struggle to speak, "S-S-Sa…ki…"

"Saki?" He repeated and pulled back. "Did you see her?"

Aimi didn't answer with words, merely directing her gaze elsewhere for him to follow. It would seem that as she was bleeding, she was trying to follow her friend.

"I'll find her," he promised, swearing the he was going to save one of them from all of these.

"S-So… cold…." She croaked, prompting the man wrap his arms around her tightly. "I-It… hurts…"

"Shh, it'll be okay," he whispered, cradling the young girl as she drew further and further away.

The girl's crying slowly began to grow weaker and weaker as she was slowly rocked by the man she had only briefly met a few days ago. The wound didn't even hurt anymore, but she felt so… tired. She just wanted to go to sleep and then wake up to find out it was all one big nightmare.

That sounded nice. She'll wake up and find Ms. Akane waiting for her with the others and maybe she'll even get to pick her favorite book for story time too.

Later, she'll play with Koku and try making a snowman outside. If they're good enough, maybe they'll even get adopted by someone…

"It'll all be over soon," he comforted her as best he could. "Just close your eyes…"

Minato kept rocking her as the whimpers and whines grew quieter and quieter until they ended with one last silent breath. He had to bite his lip, choking back tears as he slowly put the girl's cold lifeless body down on the ground.

The bluenette leaned back, supporting himself with his hands as he struggled to prevent himself from breaking down. He's seen death certainly, but this—this was different. These were just kids sent to die, and now he's here to find what's left.

" _No, not now,"_ he thought to himself, picking up his sword. There's still one left and he had to hurry.

Suddenly a scream pierced the air, disrupting his thoughts. This one didn't belong to a shadow, it was… _human!_

" _I'm coming!"_ Minato dashed towards the origin of the voice, running faster and faster as the screams grew louder, either by him getting closer or the child getting more and more scarred.

They were loud, but not too loud to be the sickening wails he heard just a few moments ago. She was terrified and possibly being chased, but she wasn't hurt yet.

Minato forced his legs to stop, causing his feet to drag on the floor for the friction to cease his movements when he saw something heading towards him. The figure was small, he could see shades of blue coming from it at a distance… there she was!

He couldn't see her clearly, but could tell she was running, presumably _from_ something in the darkness behind them.

Not knowing how far behind her the shadows were, Minato put away his sword in favor of a bow with a single arrow. He had to take care of them now while he still could.

"Get down!" Minato knocked the arrow and aimed as best he could in the darkness.

The child continued running for a few moments, likely looking ahead to see the man aiming in their direction. Taking his words to heart, she ran a few more steps before diving towards the floor, exposing the creatures behind.

The bluenette let the arrow loose, using his personas' magic to use the air to amplify its speed and the force behind it before setting the area around it ablaze. The halls became filled with shrieks, from those pierced by the arrows and by the ones burning from the inferno around it.

All that stopped once the arrow found itself stuck in one particularly large shadow, possessing a larger, more brawny, and humanoid frame rather than being another large blob with appendages.

Minato was already rushing forward with it, sword in hand.

The shadow struck high, shifting its right arm into a crude blade with the intent on cleaving him in two.

The Blue-Oni ducked, barely avoiding the attack and returning it with one of his own. He struck low, severing the creature's disproportionately tiny legs, causing it to excrete large amounts of dark ichor from the wounds as it feel onto the floor.

Knowing that wasn't going to be enough to take it down, thrust his blade into the side of its abdomen, stabbing it with the tip of his blade before dashing forward towards the creatures face, dragging the blade with him and slicing the abomination open.

When his sword was about to meet the creature's arm, he retracted the blade and instead ran directly in front of shadow's face that was shaped like a mask.

He didn't take any time to marvel at the sight he'd seen a hundred times before, instead shoving his sword straight through the center of the monster's head, shattering its mask and causing it to fully collapse onto the floor, prompting to begin fading away in a black mist like the rest of its brethren.

Minato's attention quickly shifted back to the girl who was still on the ground, trembling and whimpering as she kept her hand over her head.

"Hey," he put a hand on the girl, but she was too terrified. The moment she felt his hand on her she screamed again and prepared to take off running, forcing him to grab her by the arm and turn her around.

"Hey, hey, hey," he continued calling out to the young girl, fighting through her feeble attempts to fight him until he cupped her hands to force her to look at him, "it's okay, it's okay…"

The girl's closed eyes finally opened, revealing light blue eyes that contrasted with his more grey-ish shade. Fear was replaced with recognition, and the poor girl quickly threw her arms around the man, clutching onto him with trembling arms.

"I… I… I…" she tried to speak, but all that came out were more tears.

"It's fine," he said, pushing her back slightly so that they were face-to-face, "listen, did they hurt you?"

Saki shook her head. "T-They never caught me, b-but… but the others…"

"Shh," he shushed the child, "listen, I'm here to get you out of this, okay?"

The girl slowly nodded, wiping away the tears from her face. "O-Okay…"

Another shriek echoed throughout the warren, causing the minor to jump and turn back where she heard the creatures approaching.

"Stay close to me," Minato ordered and the girl did as she was told as he pulled out the half of the object he broke before entering.

Suddenly, they were encapsulated in a bright yellow-ish light.

The next thing Saki knew was the sudden chill in the air and the feeling of snow on her face.

"Huh?" The girl looked around confused.

"A little trick I had." Minato tossed the remnants of the now worthless object aside. "The nickname for these objects are Goho-Ms," he explained, pointing what looked like two pieces of a broken twig, "normally, the people that can afford them keep one half home to transport them there if they're in danger—hence the name—but it can take you anywhere you keep the first half."

"Oh," she said, brushing the hair out of her eyes as she diverting her gaze back at the man who saved her. "Where are you taking me now?"

"First," Minato balled his fists and his eyes must've flashed since the girl seemed ready to jump out of her skin for a moment, "I need to make sure this never happens to anyone else again."

Saki nodded agreeing before she turned towards the steps. She was about to ascend upwards, content with following her rescuer for now, until she felt his hand on his shoulder stopping her as he shook his head.

"There's something up there," he explained, withholding as much detail as he could, "something you don't need to see. Not now after all of that."

Before she could respond, she felt herself suddenly become soporific when he uttered the words, "Dormina."

* * *

"Burn," he whispered, tossing an Agi gem at the orphanage while holding onto the sleeping girl in his arms. This place has claimed the lives of too many—no longer.

It didn't take long for the townspeople to take notice and gather around behind him. The blizzard and the fog that came with it both had waned now, instead just becoming a clear light flurry that was bond to fade into a clear sky soon.

They sounded angry at first, but silence quickly spread as they each remembered exactly who he was. Who he was, and what he was holding.

"How many?" Minato turned the townspeople, his expression empty—devoid of anger, fear, sorrow, anything. "How many did you give up?"

The people looked upon themselves, but their silence continued. They were all afraid—afraid that they've been caught, and what he could do to them.

"You don't know the answer, do you?" He shook his head, "Of course you don't. You probably did your best to keep away."

The man that he had talked to at the restaurant stepped up, "We… we were just trying to survive."

"Survive?" he let out a short empty laugh, his expression still unchanged. "What's survival worth when it's built on the bodies of innocents?"

Another man stood up, "You ain't got no right to judge us!" Did he actually just say that, really? "Before we made that deal, we were all starving to death! Starving, sick, ready to murder each other—"

"Murder?" he repeated, tilting his head. "And this isn't murder? Sending innocent kids to die?"

"Not kids, just orphans," another one of them reasoned, "I mean… no one wanted them anyway."

"Funny," another cold laugh left his lips. "It's funny how people do that. Where once a child's life was precious and invaluable, it is now rendered moot if they're one of—what was it again? The _Unwanted,_ I believe they were called?"

"We just…" this one was a woman, trying to defend herself and her friends, "we didn't want to. But we had to survive, and—"

"But it was a unanimous decision," his words made more than a few of their faces pale as they wondered just how much he learned in such a short span of time. "Voting was mandatory if I recall. Yet, all of you agreed. No town has a unanimous voting on something they 'didn't want' to do."

He turned his head, looking left to right at the crowd and noting each and every one of them, "all of you knew, and all of you agreed. You agreed, because you wanted a comfortable life."

"What do you know?!" Another woman, this one much more angry than the last. "We're not persona-users! We're just ordinary people who want to live! If it costs a few bastard children, so be it! We'll just replace them with our own!"

The crowd releases a plethora of shocked gasps at the woman's outburst, but none say anything. In their hearts, they were thinking the same thing. The Unwanted can be replaced by the Wanted, and no one would care. What's a few children to a town, a potential city that can house dozens upon dozens of people eventually?

"Izumi," Minato called out the name of the woman he met at the store during his first visit, "there was a child who liked your gloves… what was their name?"

"I-I…" Izumi's words were scrambling and the townspeople each took a step back, knowing she was failing the test.

"Chie," he answered, thinking she needed a refresher.

"Oh yes!" The woman's eyes widened, as if it all came back that instance. "I remember sweet, little Chie. She always loved trying on—"

"No she didn't." Minato shook his head, "because none of them were named Chie. I just made her up. There was a _boy_ named Koku who loved your scarves though, but wouldn't remember that."

He took a step forward, slowly shaking his head with the same empty look on his face. "I could tell you how they all loved dangos, but you wouldn't remember."

Everyone began murmuring amongst themselves and some even screaming in horror as they saw the large, black silhouette hover above him, sword in hand with coffins on its back.

"I could tell you all about how they trusted all of you, and you wouldn't remember."

* * *

Walking through the snow was another figure, dressed in dark cloak that stuck up in the pure white snow.

On his hip was a sword in its sheath, as he was unable to summon a weapon at a moment's notice; an unfortunate disadvantage he was left with given his circumstances.

He continued wandering, until he came across the remains of a town—both the building and its residents.

The man titled his head, ignoring the bits and pieces of the previous residents as he wandered the streets. Most of the buildings were mostly intact, all save for one.

Down the street, there was smoke coming from where once must have stood a large building. Most of it was reduced to ashes in a fire, but a few pieces of the building's main frame remained just enough to make it identifiable.

This must have been the orphanage that was being used. He can't say that he'll miss it.

The man turned his head and saw his reflection in the broken glass on one of the buildings—having been shattered by something (presumably a part of a previous resident) being thrown though it—revealing the blank, featureless porcelain colored mask he wore beneath his hood.

The mask wasn't a requirement for one of Nyarlathotep's favored as it was made to be more symbolic than anything… except in his case. He wore it for a different reason.

The man reached into his cloak and pulled out a journal, flipping through the pages until he came across a set of blank pages that he began drawing a rough sketch of the area so that _he_ knew exactly what he saw.

Just when he was about finished drawing, he felt a hand place itself on his leg. Looking downwards, he saw a man struggling to breath, having left a trail of his own blood crawling towards him.

"I-It was him…" the man coughed out. "H-He was here…. the one in blue… he—"

His words were silenced when his blade was driven through his heart. He was dead anyway, and he certainly wasn't losing sleep over the death of one as repugnant as him.

Still, Minato was definitely here. There still smoke, so he couldn't be too far now. _He_ was going to come soon, and he was going to want to see the Blue-Oni in action himself in action, so for now all he could do was track and then stalk.

Pulling down his hood lower, the Champion's 'Little Wolf' continued to track his prey.

* * *

 **Bloody fucking hell, I think I just gave Minato MASSIVE amounts of PTSD there. Jesus Christ almighty, he's already earned his Iron Woobie status…**

 **Oh yeah, if you needed a demonstration on just how shitty of a place Nyarlathotep world is? There you go. It's pretty goddamn bad. I'm going back to the PT who live under the oppressive government now (and internet, no. You know what I mean when I say that).**

 **Hope you enjoyed seeing Minato snap at the end there. Not saying the town didn't have it coming, but… yeah, there's nothing left there.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Guest: Sorry, but considering how I've seen the internet reacts to things… and I'm a self-proclaimed mild paranoiac. As for Takaya, I know it was pretty quick and underwhelming, but… well, his role is pretty inconsequential in the grand scheme. Plus, any fights involving guns are frustrating to write for (at least, for me).**

 **Gerson: Hey Gerson, how are you? I haven't seen you since… fuck, since AT or maybe early DFW, I think. Speaking of AT, I really gotta get to rewriting that… maybe after DFW is done or if it undergoes another hiatus.**

 **Lili: Holy shit, I think this is the longest review I've ever gotten. First, I'm kinda shocked you think I'm doing well with the atmosphere. Personally, I thought I was terrible but I guess I'm doing something right if you approve (or my self-deprecation blinds me). About the name thing, I did KNOW this, but take this into perspective: Minato is terrible with kids and is trying to make a girl who was just embarrassed feel better. He can make up what he wants. He does KNOW Japanese (he was seven when the world went to hell), but for obvious reasons, his knowledge of the language isn't perfect (this is my in-universe excuse for any translation fuck ups I make). And I might sound dumb for asking, but what's Promised Neverland? As for Akechi… I'll be honest, he's a tricky one. I mean, I know what I want to do with him for now, but later on? No clue.**

 **Alright, one little scene to wrap up what happened with Minato, then we're back to the PT with maybe a few scenes of things for later on.**

* * *

" _Stupid,"_ Minato cursed himself, adding a few more twigs to the small fire in front of him.

How many children are dead now because of him, because he couldn't see them for what they were?

He knew they had to have some deal going on, but at worst, he thought they were just being indoctrinated. Maybe he's a fool then, for thinking that even the most basic of morals still existed in this world?

Yeah, that sounds about right. Another life lost because of his carelessness. He's been on his own for years now, there's no excuse for this anymore.

"Ugh," he growled at himself. Was there no limit to his idiocy? He allowed himself to be blindsided again and people died for it, just like—

"Nrgh." Minato turned his head to the side where he saw his little 'guest' beginning to come to. What was he supposed to do with her?

The little girl began to shift and turn before one blue eye began poking out between a few loose strands of hair. Saki lifted her head off of the bag she had been resting on as an improvised pillow, stretching her arms and letting out a small yawn before rubbing her eyes and blinking.

"Konichiwa," Minato greeted her and Saki's eyes quickly widened when she realized where she was.

"Huh?!" Panic soon set on the girl's face as she took in her surroundings.

The girl was quick to jump to her feet, looking left and right, her breathing quickening along with the pounding in her chest.

Saki's lip trembled as she tried to ask, "W-Where am I?"

"At a campfire," Minato answered, barely glancing at her. "I don't need; I figured you'd freeze though."

Minato un-wrapped the scarf that had been hanging around his neck and outstretched his hand, "You should take this."

Saki stood there looking at the man's hand. She'd just been kidnapped by him, and he's acting like this was an everyday thing!

"Take it, or I'm putting the fire out. We'll see how long it takes until you freeze to death," Minato barked turning his head to glare at her.

Saki flinched and jumped back in shock and fear before quickly snatching the scarf from his hand. The threat was harsh, but he was going to need her to listen.

"Sit," He ordered.

A brief moment of silence between the two of them; there were no doubt a thousand thoughts racing through her mind, but how many of them was he going to be able to answer?

Eventually, however, the girl obeyed with a nod, taking a seat by the fire across from him.

"If you have questions, ask them." Of course, she had questions! She had just been betrayed and was now all alone. She deserved answers, not that he had that many.

"Who are you?" She asked her first question. It was only natural she'd want to know who her 'captor' was, he supposed.

"Exactly who I said I was before," Minato answered. "My name is Arisato—Minato if you want to get on friendly terms. I look for daemons and shadows, and I kill them."

He hummed to himself for a moment before asking, "What about you? You're name's Saki, right? What about your surname?"

"Surname?" Saki repeated slowly, sounding out the unfamiliar word.

"Family name," Minato tried to put it in more familiar terms. "Even if you're an orphan, you should have one."

Saki shook her head. Either she lived in that town longer than he thought, or she never had a chance to learn it from her parents. It was probably best not to go too deep into that for now.

"I see." Minato sighed. An orphan without as much as a family name; she has it harder than he did. At least he knew his own identity. "Next question?"

"My friends, are… are they…?"

"They're gone." Minato's answer was immediate. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Saki repeated his words weakly, and Minato could hear her already beginning to choke back tears.

"I found you. I didn't find them in time." Minato clenched his fists, "your teacher—or whatever you want to call her—gave you to someone named Ikutsuki, a very, very bad man. He locked you in a maze, where those creatures were."

"What… what about—"

"There's nothing left there." Minato shook his head, closing his eyes and silently cursing himself. "Please, ask me anything else. You don't want the details."

Minato waited a moment, silently listening to the girl next to him fighting the twin rivers that were threatening to form. There's nothing he can say or do to make her feel better; he knew better than to try. After all, what could words do when your world falls apart around you?

"W-W…" Her voice fails her and the dam holding back the rivers both completely fall apart. Still, she curled her hands in the snow. She needed to know, "… why?

"Desperation and apathy," he answered. "They brought you to him and let you get sealed in a labyrinth. That was their intent from the start, which is why they were doing so well." Minato uncrossed his legs, instead choosing to wrap his arms around his knees. "They were sure to de-humanize you too. They called you 'unwanted.' I guess even a pseudo-apocalypse isn't enough to erase pointless social stigmas."

"T-They… They…" Minato's eyes were focused on the fire, but he already knew about the saline liquid mixing with the snow beneath her as it fell from the streams running down her cheeks. Just like that, she lost everything she knew, and now here she was, with a man she just met days ago.

She wants to deny it. He knows that she wants to say he's wrong; that he's lying. But she saw the shadows and knows what they did to her friends; her family. Maybe she'll start blaming him? He couldn't say she was wrong; she lost everything because of his mistake, and he was even willing to leave assuming that she and the others would be brainwashed into being faithful servants to a tyrannical god.

Then again, should he be complaining? If she hates him, it keeps her away. If she's away, the less likely she is to be endangered. The world was destroyed because of Nyarlathotep, and he's carrying something much worse. She needs to be kept at a safe distance until…

… Until what?

"Hey," Minato sighed, pulling on a strap his bag, bringing it towards him. He opened it up, reaching inside and shuffling through the various items until he pulled out a small gem with the dimmest of glows.

"Catch," he warned, tossing them gem in her direction.

The girl flinches when she notices the object, raising her hands and reflexively shielding herself until she feels something land into the palm of her hands. When she opened them back up, she found the gem radiating a faint orange color and emitting a strange, soothing warm sensation. Not enough to burn, but enough to be felt on the coldest nights of the endless winter.

"That's a defective Agi gem, but a lot of people call 'em heaters," Minato explained. "They're harmless, but they should help keep you warm. I'll find you something to eat later."

Saki looked up from the gem, clutching the item tightly. "What're you gonna do with me?"

"Heh," Minato chuckled. "Kiddo, I don't have a single clue."

* * *

"Cold, cold, cold, cold…" Akira repeated, roving through the streets shivering, hugging himself and rubbing his arms hoping that the friction would help at least somewhat. The shivering only intensified when another gust of wind began to pick up, going straight through the multiple layers of clothing and to his skin.

Teeth chattering, Akira scuttled into a nearby alley, pressing up against the wall to shield him from the slow, cold torment. It was a good thing that neither Mona or Ryuji was here, otherwise, he would be hearing wisecrack after wisecrack over his sensitivity to cold right about now.

The chill he felt only continued to escalate in terms of severity when he glanced at another camera that surrounded the city positioned right above him. Good to know that somewhere out there, someone is watching his bones become frosted and his blood turns into ice.

Luckily for him, in that alley was the door he had been looking for.

There wasn't anything remarkable about it, other than it was just out of the line of sight of any of the cameras. It was a minor oversight not worth correcting, especially as one could not enter the alley without being seen.

Akira raised his hand and knocked on the door.

No answer.

" _Seriously?"_ Akira thought through his chattering teeth. It would be great if he could have a fire or something going right now, but no, he has to sit out here in the cold.

"Come on!" Akira growled, banging again on the door. There was no way in hell he was going to be left out here to freeze.

His whining seemed to bear fruit when he saw the knob begin to turn. The door began to slightly crack open, revealing a woman with a set of dark blue hair.

"My oh my," the woman's voice was teasing, something Akira might have gotten mad about was it not for his blood freezing. "I didn't expect delivery of ice—"

"Not now." Akira shuddered, "Takemi, please, let me in before I freeze to death."

The woman chuckled a moment at the poor boy's misery before stepping aside, letting him in.

Inside wasn't exactly what he would call well heated, but it was magnitudes better than being outside and having the cold air directly against his skin.

Like the ever so caring doctor she was, Takemi was quick to offer him a seat and even fetched him a blanket.

"Thanks." It wasn't much, but anything was better than being left to slowly thaw.

The place was not exactly what one would call luxurious, but Takemi's status as a doctor did bestow certain privileges onto her. One of them was being poured into the cup in her hand and filling the room with a strange aroma that filled the room.

What was it that Sojiro called it again? Cough-y? Kaffy?

With the cup filled with whatever that stuff was called, Takemi took a seat in a chair across from him and crossed her legs with an inquisitive look on her face.

"So, what brings you here, my little ice cube?" She asked, smirking when she noticed his frown.

"You know I hate it when you call me that," Akira growled under his breath, not that she seemed to notice. "I was just in the area and thought I'd pay a visit."

"Oh?" Takemi raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her beverage. "And how's your friend doing? Has his leg gotten any worse?"

Akira tittered at the mention, bobbing his head to the side with every word, "Well, he might've fallen down some stairs."

"Did he now?"

"Yup, but somehow got out of it fine." With Ryuji's luck, maybe he should start planning missions? "About how much longer until he can walk again?"

Takemi shrugged. "Maybe never."

"I see—wait, what? Never?!"

"Or tomorrow," she continued, "I can't be sure without taking another look at him, can I?"

"Oh… right…" Akira breathed a sigh of relief when he caught onto the joke. For a moment there, he thought he might've been responsible for crippling his friend.

"Anyway," stood up, shedding the blanket and rubbing his hands together, "I just wanted to drop by and say hi."

"Before you leave…"

Takemi stood up, going into one of the other rooms. Judging from all the clutter he heard, he was fairly certain that it was her kitchen.

Now he can't help but wonder what sort of culinary delicacies she must have. Certainly, she must have something better than what he gets, right? She is a doctor after all, and anyone with medical knowledge has to be invaluable in today's word.

And now he's starving.

When Takemi came back, Akira's mouth was already watering from the imaginary food in his head. Now if he tried to think about anything else, the pain in his stomach quickly brought his mind back to food. Why did he have to do this to himself?

"I thought your cat might like this." Lo and behold, in her hands was a can of tuna… as if his thoughts weren't enough.

" _I am going to neuter that cat."_ Akira thought in his head when he thanked the doctor and put the can into his bag.

Tuna—of all things, it had to be tuna. Where did this stuff even come from? More importantly, just what and how much is this woman getting?

The thought continued to remain in his head when he was saying his goodbyes, narrowly escaping another offer to be her guinea pig, whatever that entailed. Actually, what even _is_ a guinea pig?

Akira's stomach continued to growl as he continued walking down the cold streets. Maybe he should have just helped himself to everything he and the others brought with them on their last run.

Then again, people might notice is he started gaining weight if he started pigging out on everything. Or maybe this was just his paranoia kicking in?

Besides, even his parents used to rail on him for his appetite. But pigging out? That was…

Was…

… More describing of someone else.

No, not now; he didn't need those thoughts creeping back in. Anything else was preferable.

Dammit, now he can't stop thinking about it. He tries to shift his focus, concentrating on the frozen hell that was assaulting his skin, but he couldn't.

Something else—he needed to focus on something else. He didn't need to think about it. He didn't need to remember what happened to—

"Hmm?" Akira's thoughts were finally halted when he stopped to look at two guards standing at the center of the road behind barricades and tape to prevent anyone from passing through.

Barricades—what for? What were they doing that they didn't want anyone else to see/get involved in?

Knowing full well there was no point in asking, Akira instead eyed the surrounding buildings. All the entrances would be cut-off, including any of the alleyways. That being said, their numbers were pretty spread pretty thin—most of them being in sent to the outer edges to prevent any attacking forces—so maybe they didn't have enough to cover all the rooftops.

Turning around and seemingly going back from whence he came, Akira began circling one of the nearby buildings, just out of the quarantined area was what he was looking for: another old remnant from the old world, a fire escape.

Cameras weren't too big of a concern. Technically, he was not violating the quarantine, so as long as he doesn't bother the guards from up there, he should be fine.

The whole thing squeaked when it was suddenly forced to endure his weight. How old were these things? More importantly, how well maintained were they?

The more and more he thought about it, perhaps climbing this _wasn't_ the smartest of choices? But by the time he had decided that it was riskier than whatever it was worth, he was already more than always up; he might as well see it through.

When he reached the rooftop, he was promptly introduced to something he's never seen before: more snow! Akira could only guess that no one was out cleaning up the rooftops like they had the streets—then again, it was a miracle that they even could clear up the roads, so it's not like he could complain too much.

Luckily for him, the sky's frozen gift was not too plentiful as to restrict his movements majorly. Pushing through what there was, Akira was able to crouch down near the edge of the roof where he saw a squad of guards in the middle of the street with a line of people.

Reaching into his bag, Akira pulled out a camera that Futaba had salvaged parts for and used it to zoom in.

The nature of the camera made everything still appear blurry, but he was able general details of what was going on.

There were a few guards armed with weapons, and they appeared to be lining several people up in a line. The people were on their knees with their hands behind their head while on of the guards appeared to be looking at something, maybe reading off some crimes or looking at pictures so he can correctly identify the persons they are looking for.

It wasn't long before one of them got the genius idea of trying to book it, but he/she didn't get far before getting shot in what looked like the leg. Their cries of pain were so loud that they even reached someone as high up and far away as Akira before he/she was dragged off in a vehicle that hopefully had some sort of doctor or something to stop the bleeding.

" _What did they do,"_ Akira couldn't help but wonder. It was foolish to believe that none of the laws were broken by a handful of people any given day, but it was a rarity for it to be this many people at once. Most crimes were made in the heat of the moment and were also extremely petty, so what happened here?

The last big incident he can remember thinking of in recent memory was—

"Oh no."

" _You put a target on their backs."_

Of course, this happened! What was he thinking?!

Whenever they normally steal, they either enjoy it for themselves and/or discreetly spread it out in very small portions to some of the homeless so that everyone was none the wiser. But no, he let so many people take almost an entire truckload; of course, they were going to be found out. It wasn't like Oracle could knock out all the cameras in the city, to say nothing about suddenly having that much food when surrounded by dozens who are starving.

" _The others are not going to like this."_ Knowing them, they might not say it, but everyone will know this is his fault. Best case scenario is that they're relocated to somewhere more… suitable. Worst case, they're sent to one of the farms.

"Dammit, dammit," Akira cursed, descending downwards until he felt his feet reach solid ground again. There was nothing he could do to help them, that is unless he had a death wish.

Nothing he can do now, except try not to make the same mistake again.

* * *

There was always something weird about passing the checkpoints and stepping into the upper-class area. Everything had so much more… life.

There were dozens upon dozens of people walking out in the street at once, talking out in the open comfortably and barely even giving the cameras everywhere a glance. The guards were far less numerous to the point that—according to Haru—you could go days without seeing one, even if you were to seek one out.

What always left him confounded were all the signs. Of course, signs existed everywhere for obvious reasons, but here was completely different. There were so many signs leading to so many different places—many of which being unlike anything he had ever seen before, such as something called a "bowling alley"—and they came in so many colors, a few of which even emitted some sort of strange-looking lights.

And the restaurants; how do those even work!? Haru brought him to one before, but he didn't see how any of the exchanges worked. The only thing he got out of the entire experience was that the food was to-die-for.

It's no wonder that this is the place everyone dreams of living in.

But there was no time for him to be set back by his surrounding; the last thing he needed was to stick out like a sore thumb and drawing attention to himself.

Akira already knew the path he was headed like the back of his hand by now. A few turns and some long stretches of walking straight, and then he was greeted by one of the taller buildings in the area.

Inside was what he guessed you could call a receptionist or something along those lines. The lady had already seen him enough times to remember his face, so everything went by pretty quickly until he went up a few stories and then was ringing a doorbell.

"Akira?" Haru opened the door, greeting him.

"Hey," Akira returned with a slight wave of his hand. "Can I come in, or…?"

"Oh, yes!" Haru chirped as she stepped aside, allowing him in.

Another this he could never get used to—all the space these places have. There was enough space that he could probably fit his home here four or maybe five times over and still have some room leftover.

Not only that, but the furnishings were in near pristine condition, some of it looking somewhat freshly made. Screw freshly made, they were extremely well made to the point that Akira almost felt like passing out on the spot when he sat down on the sofa.

To say that Akira was envious of his friend would be a massive understatement.

"Is there something I can get you?" Haru offered.

"Nope," Akira declined. After what he saw not too long ago, he wasn't in the mood for anything.

At least, that's what his head thought. The grumbling stomach, however, had a different plan.

"… You have any of those—uh, what do you call them—cook-something?"

"Cookies?" Akira nodded and the girl briefly left, returning with a small box that housed the biscuits within. "I hope you like chocolate chip."

"You know I do," Akira reminded her before shoving some of the sweets into his mouth. After the last stunt they pulled, the sweets were the first thing to go. Luckily, Haru was still here to satisfy his sweet tooth.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Haru asked, sitting across from him.

"Not really," Akira answered after swallowing. "I just wanted to visit is all."

Then again, he should tell her what he saw earlier, shouldn't he? But what is he supposed to say?

" _Hey, Haru—"_ Hell no, that is far too casual. He's trying telling her how people's lives were ruined, not comparing test scores!

How is he supposed to break it to her though? She was the one who gave the information; even if what happened was due to his actions, she might fault herself too.

Maybe it would be best to keep it silent, at least for now? He already saw it; he learned his lesson. There was no need to risk hurting those around him too.

" _Ugh,"_ Akira mentally groaned. _"Being good sucks!"_

"Akira?"

The raven-haired boy bit his lip and sucked in the air through his teeth before speaking, "There's something I should—"

His words were silenced by the abrupt sound of a doorbell being rung.

"Were you expecting any visitors?" Akira asked to which the girl shook her head in response. It wasn't like her father would ring the bell to his home.

Rising from their respective seats, they walked over to the door which its owner answered by opening the door and revealing a brown-haired boy.

"Oh, Ms. Okumura, how nice to meet you again," Akechi greeted, eyeing Akira, "forgive me, I was unaware you had a guest."

"Akira," he introduced himself, "and if I had to guess, you would be Akechi?"

"Indeed, I am." Akechi nodded in his direction, "a pleasure to meet you."

His direction returned to a still slightly wide-eyed Haru. "Would your father be home, by any chance?"

"N-No!" Haru answered immediately, leaving a lingering silence that told everyone that she didn't even know what question she was just asked. Luckily, she realized it soon enough that she was able to follow with, "no, Father is away for reasons he had not disclosed to me. Sorry, I had thought you were going to ask something else."

"Something… else?" And now she put herself back in a hole. Wait a minute, exactly what _did_ she think he would ask?

"Eh, just leave her alone," Akira replied on her behalf. "I mean, some presumably influential person she just met shows up at her front door, I think she has a right to be at least a little nervous."

"Oh, I see. That is a fair point," Akechi relented, silently apologizing for his abrasiveness. "May I ask that you notify of my being here? He and I have some affairs that require discussion."

"I will as soon as he returns," Haru agreed with a nod. "It was nice seeing you again."

"Likewise." Akechi returned the gesture before turning around, walking down the hall and leaving without another word.

Haru the motion to close the door, but was immediately halted by Akira placing his hand on the panel.

"I think I should go too."

"Huh?" Haru let go of the door and tilted her head slightly to the side. "But you just arrived."

"Yeah," Akira admitted with a shrug, "but I just wanted to pay a quick visit. To tell you the truth, I just wanted to eat some of your cookies."

"Heh," Haru giggled for a moment as he stepped out of the room. "Please, be sure to come again."

"I will, I will," Akira waved goodbye, following the other boy's footsteps.

When he was outside, however, he quickly began to repeatedly hit himself on the head as his mind drifted to the item in his bag.

" _I am pathetic!"_ Akira cursed himself. Why couldn't he have just shown her one picture?! That's all it was; one picture from the damn camera and then leave.

What did he even hope to gain by not showing her, the delaying of the inevitable? It wasn't like she wasn't going to hear about this eventually.

Akira Kurusu, the Phantom Thief who valiantly faces off against shadows all by his lonesome, yet, is completely unable to tell his friend that his screw up, something she had little bearing on, caused exactly what the others warned him about.

"Hmm?" Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something—something familiar.

For a few moments, Akira stood their stunned until he remembered what he had seen and from when. It's a butterfly, one he hadn't seen since before becoming a Phantom Thief.

As quickly as he noticed it, however, it seemed to vanish into nothing, just like it had done before so long ago.

But where did that thing go?

* * *

"Here stand stragglers/ sent to guard by their false-lord/guided by despair," A lone figure speaks, standing by and watching four of Yaldabaoth's grunts scour the snowy lands.

"Yet, they remain blind/they walk besides death itself/but are unaware." The four looked lost, perhaps separated from the others of their pack. For what reason were they sent here into the heart of this dilapidated land, untamed by either the false-god or by Chaos itself?

The figure eyes the feral shadows approaching. "Death comes to collect/but the rabble fight/they deny their place."

Impressively, the four manage to beat the small horde back. Ballistic weaponry had not yet deteriorated to the extent of complete impotence. At least, with minor insects, they can still do some harm without the aid of a persona or the likes.

"They cheer unaware/the leman zealot is there/she awaits my word."

Sitting atop one of the branches of one of the remaining trees was a woman. She dressed similarly to him and the 'hound' who was currently away. Her robe-like garb and hood kept her almost completely covered, with a black mask concealing her face.

One of the men feels their feet kick something beneath the snow, briefly causing him to leap into the air in pain and shock.

"And now, they've found it/" the figure hissed, watching the men dig beneath the snow to reveal a giant mass of chains, all wrapped together into what amounted to a big ball with a single padlock keeping it all together, "they have found an avatar/yet are ignorant."

They finally see him, the lone figure standing there with his hood down, casting a shadow over his face. But even that shadow did little to conceal the bright amber eyes watching them, almost completely distracting from the katana he held in his right hand, sheathed in its scabbard.

It was around then that he noticed the black butterfly approaching him. As the flock of fools screamed with terror laced with their voices when they realized just who the man in front of them was, the divine creature landed on the hooded man's shoulder.

"Oh, Muramasa/" The figured reached for his mask with his left hand. The mask was black and white with the colors split vertically and possessing small openings for the eyes to see through while its lenses hid the golden eyes beneath that continued to stalk them, "I feel your endless hunger/the blood calling us."

By now, as he walked towards them, they were unloading everything they had, but none of their primitive weaponry could land the mark. No matter how close he came to them, none of their bullets could hit them, no matter how steady their aim was.

"Ware wa kage/" Nyarlathotep's champion taunted them, "Watashi no mono desu/nie to nare!"

The sounds of gunfire finally cease, all four of them having run out of ammunition in their magazine. Unfortunately for them, they would never have the chance to reload, but not because of who they would have thought.

Screams pierce the air. The men turn to look behind him, only to see small knives had been forced into their comrade's cranium. Two of the remaining three didn't even have time to look up before they shared their friend's fate.

The woman jumped down harmlessly from the branches, barely giving the last one a passing glance as his weakened and trembling arms dropped his weapon.

In the blink of an eye, he just saw his entire team killed. How was he supposed to fight that? What were these things?!

He motioned to turn around, but only managed to move fast enough to catch a glimpse of the blade that would end his life, taking his head clean off his shoulders.

"Pitiful," the man muttered, striking the air once before sheathing his sword. He had expected almost nothing in terms of resistance, yet the vermin continue to find ways to disappoint him.

The woman picked up the chains that had fallen back to the ground. It was rather amazing how something so dangerous could appear so ordinary.

"Rin," he called her name.

The woman complied with his silent demand, wordlessly giving him the object that he grabbed by its lock.

Reaching into his pockets, he pulled out the key he had been granted before coming here. Sliding it in and turning, the lock came undone and the chains fell to the ground.

Almost immediately, darkness began to swirl around the chains. The rattling they caused only increased in intensity as the darkness continued to grow, gradually molding itself until it solidified into the form of a large, powerful creature.

"Welcome back, Reaper," the Champion greeted the shadow. Its years of dormancy were over, now it was time for it to play its part yet again.

The man extended his arm slightly, allowing the black butterfly to crawl to his hand.

"I presume my hound has been doing as he was told?" He asked, ignoring the envious green eyes from the woman beside him. Their lord's favoritism infuriated her to no end, but she would never question it—something both of them knew.

With the Reaper awakened from the long slumber Death's incarcerator had forced it into years ago, their plans could finally come to fruition.

The long wait was nearly over.

* * *

 **You know, I got Grammarly for Word during the summer. According to it, I am very prone to making "advanced" issues but I'm not paying to learn what those specific issues are. Hell, considering a good chunk of my family is more or less illiterate and my old school went through 5 English teachers (not including subs) for my class alone one year—it's a miracle I'm as good at reading/writing as I am.**

 **Goddamn, this took forever to get out. In my defence, I had a lot of shit to do. I'm transferring schools, I had some motivational problems, I have a lot of fics that require my attention (one of which involves getting some of its old chapters rewritten), I wanted to enjoy summer while I could—look, a whole heap of things happened, okay?**

 **And I won't be doing this every time Japanese comes up, but in this case, I'll translate for you.**

 **Ware wa kage – I am the shadow**

 **Watashi no mono desu – (You) are mine**

 **Nie no nari – become my sacrifice!**

 **In case it's not obvious, the guy likes haikus.**

 **Yeah, if you decide to ditch after that last segment, I won't hold it against you. No, seriously, I won't hold anything against you. I'm just curious where you guys think I'll actually be going with his, as predictable as it may/may not seem to some of you.**

 **Side note: I feel I've degraded the Reaper into something of a butt monkey in my stories but no more! This shadow is getting the respect he deserves! No longer shall he fall victim to completely bullshit one-shot attacks! No, he is the goddamn reaper and he's going to be treated as such.**


	8. Joker (Chapter 8)

**Ichinaruko: Hey, I might like writing "gorn" as the internet calls it, but I'm trying to lay off that. It's like the sex scenes in DFW; I don't want it to be too gratuitous like in AT. Anyhow, yes, Minato and Akira were meant to contrast with one another. One is currently a powerful, aimless drifter who spent the last four years (It think it was four anyway) alone, while we have Akira who's young, more impulsive, definitely weaker, etc.**

 **KingJGamer: I remember Sho, don't worry. Believe me, it's hard for me to forget the little bastard.**

 **As of writing, I am now back in school for what will hopefully be my last year. No idea what's in store for me after or how long it'll be before I'm kicked out my home but whatever.**

 **I think this is going to be a much shorter chapter than usual guys. This is mostly just build-up for the next one, as you'll see very soon.**

* * *

The hound in black shivers, shrouded in darkness with only a few rays peaking through the cracks and crevices of this old hovel. But the blackness was preferable to the blinding light.

He learned quickly that the light only brings pain, and that pain was the last thing he needed—especially now.

Why did he have a girl with him? Was that girl related to his massacre?

For now, he could only keep his distance. The Champion had told him to stay away and not to fight him without his presence. Maybe the hound would get lucky, and Minato would end the dog's master's life on the spot.

No, that was far too hopeful. He wasn't eager to be reunited with disappointment's company so soon.

The hound placed a hand over where the mask covered his mouth, stifling a cough as his eyes glared at the door to the outside world.

He was running out of time.

Time, when was the last time he wasn't hearing he was running out? His first memories were hearing about how little time he had from the people in white, then from two people crying with one of them holding him tightly in their arms, and then by _him_ before being permanently silenced.

With every movement he made, every muscle in his body screamed at him. With every breath, he felt the end coming closer. With every wound he suffers, he remembers what he is.

Such was the life of the boy no one knew, fit only to become a slave.

Such was the life of The Champion's dog.

* * *

Who are you?

It's a question that is cursed.

With every question, there is an answer. With every answer, there is a question.

But this question has no answer. You remember nothing of what you were, no matter how hard you try. All that you can remember is a single word echoing in your head.

"Joker."

There is someone with that name. Someone dares to don that damned name, someone that _must_ die.

The Champion had pointed you to where you need to go. To the east, this person lies, protected in his guise by dozens of humans of shadows, all led by a false-god.

"Joker."

Dozen of shadows try to stop you from the moment you're awakened, but nothing but ash remains of them. Yaldabaoth is a fool for thinking that could even slow you down.

The humans try to stop you, but they're nothing more than walking sacks of meat. The snow is recolored crimson with your guns as the brush and them as the ink. Their effort was too pitiful to be considered even paltry.

But that's what you are. You never cared about the lives of others, and you won't start now.

You are the taker of lives, be it innocent or otherwise.

Reaper is what they call you now, and so to it, you must reap their souls.

"Joker."

And his is the one you will cherish most, his, and the one that dared to lock you away all those years ago.

Human lives are insignificant. They begin as nothing more than helpless, writhing sacks of flesh and bone. Decades later, their own bodies will no longer be able to perform the most basic of functions and thus leading to their expiration.

There is nothing wrong with what you do. Their lives are already destined to end. All you do is make sure it happens sooner and is far more expeditious.

"Joker."

* * *

"We ask that those not on official business, please return to your homes."

Akira listened to the man on the megaphone through the walls of his bedroom. Outside the window, he could see the massive crowds gather, each soul desperate to know what was going on and why.

They would always set-up checkpoints whenever they stole from them, but this was completely different. What began as strict enforcement became full-on martial law.

"What do you think happened?" Akira asked his feline friend.

"I dunno," Morgana replied, tilting his head with his gaze directed at those below. "I don't think it was us though."

"Still…" Akira shook his head. A lot of people were probably going to suffer for this, but there was nothing he could do.

The crowd will be dispersed eventually, and until then, he's going to have to find a way to get comfortable now that's he's all alone in his room with no one else but his cat.

"I'm taking a nap," Akira mumbled, leaning back into the wall, "wake me up if something happens."

* * *

"Joker."

You're getting closer, you know it.

The darkness envelops you, allowing you to remain hidden even among the white that blankets everything.

You lost your lower limbs a long time ago, so you need not worry about leaving any trails. They do not know where you are going, and so they have ordered everyone to remain hidden from you. But you can only hide from animals—none escape the reaper.

He lies in the ruined city that yet teems with life.

Stubborn lifeforms these humans are. But nothing escapes that reaper's claws. All must die; will die.

"Joker." Your voice is nothing but a whisper, but you still use it to repeat that name.

You continue to repeat that name, even as you destroy the barricades made to bar you.

You repeat it, even as you end the lives of everything the stands in your way. Shadow, humans, animals—they're all the same to you. The winter makes it easier for you; much harder to hide from you and less life is polluting the landscape.

You must destroy it all. You must see to it that there is nothing left but dust. Everyone must die.

* * *

A loud explosion pierced the air, awaking the thief from his slumber.

"Joker, we have problems!" Mona shouted, jumping in the air with every word as he stared wide-eyed out the window. "Big problems!"

Akira scrambled to get back on his feet, adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins, dispelling any fatigue that might have remained.

Another explosion followed by screams came from outside, causing vibrations to channel through the floorboard and to his feet.

"Mona, what the hell is going on?!"

"I have no idea!" Morgana shouted, constantly shifting his position so that he could see what was causing the commotion. All he could see were dozens of people running, screaming, and piling up at the blockades.

The others were too far away to find from here, especially with this many people. That is, everyone except—

"We gotta find Futaba and Sojiro!" Akira said shouting, grabbing his bag with barely enough time for Mona to jump on his shoulder.

Akira was lucky the only way inside was through an alley, that made sure there weren't too many people blocking either his door or him trying to leave.

There was no way he was going to be able to get to Sojiro's through a crowd that dense. There was no way he could drag himself through a crowd that massive. The buildings were too small and spaced out to simply climb up to the rooftops.

The only way he's going to be able to move is if that crowd does.

They've put up all to stop anyone from getting through, and they seem to be holding out too. There are far too many people though, so many that no one was able to notice the foundation beginning to heat up just enough to weaken it so that the combined force of the mob could force the entire thing crumbling down.

"There we go," Akira said, smiling. It might take some time, but with the bulk of the crowd beginning to move, he might be able to push his way through.

That is until he heard the sounds of another mob approaching, having come from the other wall and seeing this one having been knocked down.

"Oh, crap!" Akira rushed back inside, barely managing to escape the oncoming stampede.

"That didn't go as planned," Akira lamented. "Okay, plan B then."

"What was plan A?!" Mona exclaimed in his ear as the boy placed his bag on the table, quickly searching through it.

"No, no, no…" he muttered, biting his lip as he continued to desperately search.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing!

He had almost completely given up hope until he felt a faint vibration at his fingertips.

"Bingo," Akira muttered, putting the item to his ear. "Oracle—Futaba, can you hear me?!"

"Akira?" Futaba's voice answered, instantly washing away several worries he had been carrying on his shoulders.

"Are you okay?" Akira asked, rushing upstairs to see if he could catch something—anything—out the window. "Where are you?!"

"Sojiro and I are still inside but—Akira, we can't get out!" Futaba explained, her voice starting to quicken, threatening to drive her into hyperventilation. "T-There are s-s-so many p-people a-a-and…"

"Stop, stop, stop!" Akira ordered, trying to ignore the screams from the people outside. "Listen, I need you to cut some of the cameras in the area, okay?"

Futaba didn't respond. All Akira could hear was her ragged breathing and her trying to regain control.

"Akira, are you serious?!" Mona already knew where this was going.

"Everyone's too much in a panic to be paying attention, and I need to figure out what the hell is going on here!" Akira barked back, loud enough to make even his friend quiver.

"O-Okay…" Futaba managed to breathe out, having finally regained some form of control of herself. "They're going to be on alert, so you need to be fast. I can give you ten seconds max."

"That's all I need." Akira opened his window, blue flame briefly engulfing him and revealing him to be in his Phantom Thief outfit. "You in, Mona?"

"I—We—but—Ugh, what the hell?" Mona relented, the azure inferno mimicking Akira's, transforming the seemingly ordinary pet into an anthropomorphic form. "I'm with you until the end, Joker."

"Almost," Futaba uttered, barely loud enough to hear. The moment she's ready, they're going to have to hurry.

There weren't too many on the street directly below, and anyone nearby is far too distracted for it to matter.

Yaldabaoth couldn't have done this—this was something new. What the hell was going on?

"Do it, Joker!"

* * *

Do they honestly think they have a chance?

The gnats surround you, continuing their futile efforts to send you back into your torporific state. But neither the gnats nor the shadows are of any inconvenience to you.

Their shadows had long since become shades of pink, each fighting for you. They kill the humans they had been serving with indiscriminately, from the ones that fire upon to the ones that try in vain to escape their fate.

You feel something hit you back and you're briefly obnubilated by smoke as you turn around. When the dust settles, you see another flock of humans. Cute, they thought explosives would work on you.

You raise your gun into the air and fire.

You watch the humans become veiled in a blinding blue light, and when the illumination dims, all that is left in their place is a massive crater and fallen buildings.

Wait, you feel something!

No, not just something—someone!

You can feel him!

You turn to the source, and there he is, standing there shocked as he gazes upon your form.

Your sole bloodshot eye cause his own to widen.

The ghostly form that floats above the ground beneath you leaves his knees trembling.

The bloodied sack that hides your face leaves his mouth agap, leaving him questioning if he was trapped in a nightmare.

But your voice—it's your cold, unnatural voice that forces his heart to sink as you say the name.

"Joker."

* * *

 **Well, this is bad.**

 **I don't know what else to say here other than this is very, very bad. Good luck taking him on Akira! I'd say your odds are slim to none.**

 **I didn't expect to be writing from Reaper's POV, to be honest, but it just sorta happened when I was writing. The same thing roughly happened with the "Champion's dog" as we'll call him for now, although his scene was pretty brief.**


	9. Chapter 9

**You know, I've been thinking. Maybe I should revert this fic back to being rated "T." I mean, the chapter that elevated it to an "M" rating didn't really describe too much, and the one child-death we actually saw on-screen wasn't too bad or even graphic.**

 **Besides, there are way more gory fics than what I write that still have a "T" rating. It's just something to ponder.**

 **And no, before any of you ask, I'm not writing any. You know who you are, and you know what you were thinking. No, I'm done with that shit. Go on AO3 for smut. What's that? This fic is on my AO3 account now? Well, don't expect to see any of that crap from me in this fic!**

 **Side note: I can safely say that I still hate writing fight scenes, mostly because of how goddamn long they always take.**

* * *

 _ **Several hours earlier**_

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes," Minato murmured, his face deep into one of the many books that he carried with him in his bag, "and death shall be no more, neither shall—"

"What're you readin'?" Saki interrupted, her eyes glued to the book with unfamiliar symbols on the cover.

Minato answered, "one of my mother's books." He was going to have to be careful here, lest he risks turning into a missionary. Right, like he needed that on his conscience.

The mention of his late mother seemed to pique the girl's interest. "Ooh, what's it about?"

"It's an old book about dead men and a now-dead religion." Minato closed the book in his hand, placing it back into his bag alongside the other variants of the same stories. Funny, from what he was told, religion was something people often fought and killed one another over, and yet now most are either dead or dying in light of recent events.

"Oh," she breathed, her excitement instantly becoming crushed. Minato would be lying if he said if he didn't feel a ting of guilt for that either.

Still, It was better this way—there'll fewer complications down the road like this. He needs to keep her at a distance so that way he will have an easier time dropping her off somewhere safe wherever that may be.

At the same time, that was the first time he saw her brighten up since what happened. Once upon a time, he was like her; no one should have to suffer alone as he did.

Minato relented, taking a deep breath before asking, "do you like reading?"

"No—I mean, yes—I mean, I, um," Saki's tongue continued to tie itself into a knot, unable to finish her sentence. What was that supposed to mean? Maybe there was something reading has that you could not get anywhere else?

Minato hummed to himself for a moment before asking, "What about the stories? Do you like those?"

"Mm-hmm," The girl nodded, her lips turning to a faint curl. "I really like the one about the moon girl!"

"Moon girl?" Minato repeated, thinking back the any of the stories he had heard in recent memory. "Wait, you mean the Moon Maiden? I didn't know they still told it."

"Uh-huh!" Just like that, the girl was smiling at him and happily recounting an old memory. "I thought the ending was a little sad, but I like how—in a way—Moonbeam was still cheering them up, even when she's… "

Saki lowered her head again, and the smile was wiped away like chalk on a sidewalk at the last word. "… gone."

"And who could forget the butterflies," Minato thought out loud, the faint darkly tone of his voice going unnoticed by the girl. The two butterflies; black and blue, scouring the grassy fields.

" _ **And the moon—don't forget the moon."**_ Of course, even his plus-one had to chime in.

Who would have thought that with the dawn of the apocalypse, butterflies and the moon would be what was ruined the most for people—or at least, Minato?

"Yeah, the butterflies were cute." The girl agreed, her smiling returning as she briefly closed her eyes to picture a butterfly's appearance. "Have you ever seen a butterfly?"

Had he ever seen a butterfly? Had that been asked under any other circumstance, he might have burst out laughing.

He hadn't seen the blue butterfly in some time. Minato couldn't help but muse on what Philemon must be doing nowadays, or even the Velvet Room. Neither was particularly useful—Philemon was too debilitated to do anything even if he was _willing_ to do so, and Velvet Room was redundant at this point after all these years. He did find himself missing Elizabeth, however, wherever she may be.

Then, there was the black butterfly—the Crawling Chaos itself. Nyarlathotep rarely showed himself, and if he did, one would likely never notice. Despite his absence, his presence is ubiquitous and absolute; if disloyalty to him were to grow, he would allow either daemons or shadows to run amok to remind the pigs of their place. On some occasions, the unfortunate souls would receive a visit from his champion himself—whoever that was.

Butterflies, to think that they would bring nothing but trouble.

"I'll tell you all about 'em later," Minato sighed. Butterflies—two generations into the apocalypse, and the world have reached the stage where seeing a butterfly is noteworthy.

Suddenly, Minato felt his blood turn cold. A dull pressure he hadn't felt for years began setting in, threatening to suffocate him.

He hadn't felt this sort of sensation since—

"Do you feel that?" Minato asked, coming to a complete halt.

"Huh?" Saki looked at him puzzled.

"Not you," Minato clarified.

" _ **Grr,"**_ Death growled and hissed, recognizing the cause instantly. _**"He dared to awaken that thing?!"**_

"Reaper," the words come out in a breathless whisper. An old monster defeated years ago, but now it had been revived.

It took everything he had to defeat it last time, driving that thing into a torpor-esque state. Even with the entire team backing him back then, it was a close call—too close.

But now, he didn't have the team anymore. More than half of the people he had then are gone now, and he's all alone with no one but a child and a monster accompanying him.

How is he supposed to stop it now?

" _ **Crawling Chaos, I've known him since he was nothing more than a giant squid,"**_ Minato heard the creature roaring, thrashing about in its cage in a fit of rage. _**"And it dares—it DARES—to awaken that thing?! That twisted parody—that insult?!"**_

Death—it dares to be known as that. The creature not only shares its Arcana but also claims itself to embody the thirteenth itself.

No, it must be destroyed—erased from existence! Death—the rightful Death—will not let this go unanswered. It shall have vengeance on this pretender!

"Tone it down," Minato snarled. There was nothing quite like Thanatos' temper-tantrums to give him a headache.

"Whatcha doin'?" Saki's voice snapped him back to reality.

Wherever the Reaper is now, it's likely far from here. It doesn't even know where he is, so for now, he should do his best to avoid it.

Now, how was he supposed to explain that a massive, nigh-immortal shadow had been awakened and was most certainly looking to kill him, to a seven-year-old?

"Never mind, keep moving," Minato shook his head. He was going to have to cross that bridge another day, but no today.

" _God help whoever is in that monster's path."_

* * *

The ground trembled beneath their feet as the two thieves approached ground zero.

Akira lost his footing, falling down only to reach out to the ground to catch himself at the last second. Still, the quaking ground did not relent, even as Akira fought to balance himself as he stood up straight again.

"Mona, what the hell is going on?" Akira asked, placing his feet firmly on the ground again.

"I-I'm not sure," Mona said in a panicked voice, the strands of his fur beginning to stand up straight even in his anthropomorphic form. "It's like a shadow, but—whatever it is, it's powerful! Really powerful!"

"Great," Akira muttered, shaking his head before turning back to the feline. "Mona, I'll need you to stay in the shadows. I'll see what I can do, but if things take a turn for the worse—well, it's better for them to just think a monster was helping me."

"M-Monster?!"

"Not now!" Akira rebuffed, reaching into his coat to pull out a grappling device that he hadn't had a chance to use since his debut as a Phantom Thief.

Akira soon grew to regret ever using that device to climb the next building in front of him.

The cold air became frigid all around him, and all the noise began to become drowned out from his ears.

His eyes began to widen, and he briefly shook his head in disbelief at what he was seeing—what he was feeling, this long sense of dread emanating from the creature before his eyes.

He was there—face to face with the monster itself.

It had no legs, with nothing touching the ground and only a few rags hovering above it. Those few rags were stained crimson and in dark ink. The latter likely came from the shadows that littered the landscape, having killed some itself and bewitching the rest to rend one another before they expired. The crimson came in a variety of shades, the brown-ish tints being old and coming from battles long since passed. But there were also shades of sanguine—an ichor that had almost completely saturated the rags.

The monster stopped its assault the moment he approached, and the air grew still—so much so he could hear the pellets from its rags hitting the ground beneath it. The chains wrapped around its form rattled as it slowly turned to face him, revealing a single bloodshot eye.

The rest if its face was hidden, concealed by a bloodied sack. The 'cloth' at its shoulders showed signs of wear and tear, but the sleeves underneath continued to hide whatever was beneath them. Following the sleeves, one would find gloved hands, each holding long-barreled revolvers possessing a shiny silvery surface contrasting with the rest of the creature's horrid appearance.

The Reaper tilted his head, focusing its sole eye on him as if it was surveying him.

"Joker…" Its voice was a cold whisper that barely managed to penetrate the sack it originated from.

"H-How..?" Joker remained transfixed as its words repeated in his head on a loop.

"Joker…" how did it know his codename? It's killing everyone, so it wasn't Yaldabaoth's.

"Joker…" It recognized him by sight, does it know _who_ he is?

"Joker!" What did this mean for the others? Did it know who they were to?

"Joker, move!"

"Huh?" Akira was broken out of his trance, only to be met with one of the creature's guns to be pointing directly at him.

Luckily, the grapple device was still in his hand. Without even looking to see where he was aiming, Akira pulled the trigger and allowed it to pull him out of harm's way as the entire building was set ablaze. Unfortunately, as the grapple had not been properly aimed, he had no choice but to collide with the wall it had become lodged into.

The Reaper wordlessly turned its head, noticing the boy's survival. This game was quickly going to become tedious.

As the boy attempted to scale the wall, the Reaper fired not at him, but at the foundation beneath him. Pulling the trigger, the brick and mortar erupted, shrouding the area in a thick blanket of dust. The building quickly crumbled, bringing the boy down with it.

There was too much dust to indicate where he was, but the sounds of coughing made it apparent that he wasn't far. It also meant that he managed to get out of that without anything too severe if he could cough that loudly—now how was that?

The question went unanswered, instead, from the cloud, it could spot an orange light. The intensity grew in intensity, seemingly inlarging until it was clear what was happening—it wasn't getting brighter, it was getting _closer_. Yet, the Reaper remained still, even as the gem that served as the source came close before combusting.

Akira emerged from the cloud of dust, pounding his chest as he coughed, struggling to breathe and run simultaneously.

His senses were dulling; his vision was blurring and everything in his ears was becoming muffled.

His hands wouldn't stop tingling beneath all the tremors. Besides the tingling, he could hardly feel them hitting his chest or the sensation of his gloves as his fingers flexed.

His legs were wobbling, tingling, unable to further support him, driving him to fall on his knees as he attempted to take deep breaths now that he had reached clean air; any longer and he'd have suffocated to death.

Slowly, the trembling in his hands began to settle as the tingling sensation began to fade. He could still hear shouting coming from somewhere, but it was all still too muddled to make it out.

Instead, all he could do was focus on was the pain he felt in his legs beginning to return, aching from all of the running and jumping he had done to get here. Between this and the last operation, he was starting to wonder if he really should look into retirement soon.

Without warning, Akira felt the air around him begin to shift before it pushing him to the side, sending him rolling with his bag just in time to avoid another attack from the Reaper that causing the ground next to him to shatter and fulminate.

"Get up! We gotta move!" Mona yelled into his ear, grabbing a bluish-white gem and throwing it onto the ground, erecting a massive wall of ice.

Ice was still ice, however, as The Reaper quickly shot through it, shattering the wall into pieces that flew through the air.

"Move it! Move it!" Mona explained, allowing panic to set in as it became clear there was little either of them could do to stop this monster.

Akira gritted his teeth, raising himself from the dirt to drag himself off as quickly as he could, following his feline friend who led him away from the abomination. Fighting it head-on was a lost cause; they had to bail.

The Reaper raised one of its guns to line up the shot, but just as quickly put the weapon back down. If the boy wanted to run, then it would let him. It would _also,_ however, remind him of just what that would entail.

* * *

The room was almost pitch black, with nothing to illuminate it but the faint moonlight coming from one of the windows. He needed the darkness; bright light made sleeping too difficult.

The walls were a disgusting yellow with paper peeling off despite having been replaced less than a year ago. Perhaps this was a consequence of having workers being so desperate or times themselves with most manpower contributing to basic necessities.

It was far more likely this was only how the common people lived with some of the more 'favored' being granted much more appropriate conditions. He wouldn't know, as it was far better for him to remain living like the rest; it keeps his ties to _him_ asecret from the rest.

Father, Father, Father—not even a cosmic-event would change who he was. He was ready to abandon him, discard him like he had his mother years ago. But he survived—survived long enough for his 'talent' to be discovered. Then, just by existing, he was able to use him to further climb the ladder, and now, he could never hope to stop him—at least, _for_ now. He only needed to wait for the right opportunity.

But Father could wait.

What had captivated his attention was the secret monitor Father was insistent he'd have. With it, he could see almost the entire city without ever having to leave unless on business.

"What vile breed of creature are you?" he asked as he looked at the phantom.

It was powerful that much was certain. Equally indisputable was its bloodlust, having slaughtered its way to Tokyo. All that it would repeat was the same name, "Joker," almost like it was hunting him.

Shadow? Too powerful—at least, too powerful to be an ordinary one. Its ability to speak implied at least some intelligence, far more than the shadows he's come across.

Was it a daemon then? It made far more sense for Nyarlathotep to send one of those. But if he could, then why wait all this time and without anything to support it? Was its sole purpose to hunt 'Joker' and nothing else, with all the other deaths being collateral?

The brown orbs shifted their focus from the creature and to the boy beside his feline friend. The boy he recognized, but it was the cat that interested him. If it was working against the phantom, then it was unlikely to be a daemon—at least, one of Nyarlathotep's.

And then there was the boy…

"Hello, Joker," he greeted the image of the boy. So was the feline responsible for some of the _mysterious_ events that he had done? Or was his plan B to use that a ruse?

Oh, how the plot thickens.

The room quickly became filled with more screams coming from the outside, accompanied by the sounds of gunshots and explosions. The creature, it would seem, did not like to be neglected. Now that Joker had run from it, it was now trying to draw him back.

Alas, he was unable to ponder this for long. His duties required him now.

He was a vulture, wasn't he? Watching them suffer so that he may know what he was up against rather than risking his own life. No, more like a crow hiding in the shadows, only appearing with the dead. Such was the life of Goro Akechi.

* * *

Ragged breaths and cough left the boy's mouth as Akira leaned against the wall, sitting as he pounding on his chest with one arm. "I feel like I'm about to cough up a lung."

His earpiece was quick to respond, "that's what happens when you try attacking something you know nothing about!"

Akira might've chuckled, were not for the constant scratching at his throat that made it feel as if he'd never drank water before in his life. He couldn't help but wonder, what would kill him first, suffocation or cancer?

Letting out one last cough that only served to make him feel like he strained his throat, Akira was finally able to speak. "H-How… how are the others?"

"Everyone's locked into their buildings while the guards try to neutralize the threat." Of course, everywhere is under lockdown now. Although, that raised the question where the people running went after the walls starting getting destroyed.

Still, that meant the others wouldn't be coming either. "Good," Akira nodded slightly with a faint half-smirk forming, "tell them to stay out of this."

"Good?! Are you crazy?!"

Akira shrugged. "Maybe a little," he admitted, hissing through his teeth as he slowly stood himself back up. "Already taking a risk now. I'm not bringing everyone else into it."

"Joker, you—"

"Catch you later," Joker interrupted, turning the earpiece off. If he survived this, Oracle was going to kill him or maybe Queen—actually, everyone might. Well, sixteen years is enough to say he's lived a full, good life, right?

Returning from the streets was Morgana, having left to ensure they were being followed and keep an eye on where the creature was going.

Mona was quick to order him to stay down, however. "You can't fight like this!" Leave it to the cat to always worry about him. He was starting to miss the days when it used to just be him yelling at him to sleep at night.

Akira dismissed it, "If I can die, I can fight." The phrase might have had more meaning, were it not immediately followed by another coughing fit, forcing him to wail of his chest again. Once he was able to regain control of his breath, Akira followed it with, "that, and I'm pretty sure I just became middle-aged anyway."

"And do what?!" Mona asked, jumping in the air to add the emphasis that his voice could not. "If you can't even breathe, what _can_ you do?"

"Actually," Akira grinned, "I have a plan—a real one this time, and I'm going to need you…"

* * *

Like lambs to the slaughter, the humans continued to gather, making them easy pickings for The Reaper to end them. Try as they might, they could not stop him or even slow him down.

All they could retaliate with were bullets with the occasional gem, gems far too weak to do any real damage. Eventually, it starting growing bored and merely redirected their own attacks back at them. It's an amazing thing how self-destructive these creatures could be.

And so the Reaper remained, floating atop a river of crimson as corpses littered the streets. Now, it only needed to wait and its pray would come.

There was another though; another approaching it.

This sensation was one that it knew well. Another persona user besides Joker and the cat? He must have been one of Yaldabaoth's. He's approaching, so his intentions are clear. He seemed stronger than the other one, too, so he might actually be worth taking eliminating.

It would have attacked him too, were it not for its target leaping towards him.

Chains wrapped around his body instantly, suspending him in the air and crushing him. A little bit more pressure and it would start breaking bones, pushing them into his vital organs. His lungs would begin filling with blood, choking the life out of him as he drowned, and that was if none reached his heart and killed him immediately.

"Foolish," for the first time, The Reaper deviated from its usual speech to express disapproval. For some reason, it imagined that he would put up more of a fight.

"Yeah," Akira hissed as the chains wrapped around him tighter, slowly so that the realization of his fate would begin to set in as his free arms would claw at the chains in vain. Despite this, the boy continued to grin, "but I had to make sure I didn't miss."

The Reaper saw the gem too late. It had already been thrown, hitting it directly and engulfed him in bright, purple-ish light. The monster screamed in pain, losing in control of its chains and flinging Akira into the air.

Though his attack was successful, Akira had been too close to escape unscathed. Even if he wanted to, he was too injured to even attempt to cushion his fall. His body was limp as he began descending towards the ground.

Then, Akira felt the air begin to swirl around him, acting against gravity and slowing him down. It wasn't enough to stop his fall, but it still provided some resistance. It was enough that he was able to hit the snowy ground rolling, keeping it so that he didn't break anything important.

Of course, it still hurt like hell. Enough that he was left groaning and hissing on the ground in pain. He was left bruised and battered as he heard footsteps approaching him. "Joker, you idiot!"

"Shut… up…" Akira shot back as best he could, trying to force himself back up, only for his arms to slip, sending him back down.

Fortunately for him, Mona was quick to start using his healing tricks now that he'd all but been outed at this point. "Your plan was to get grabbed?!"

"No," Akira whined in response, feeling the worst of the pain slowly beginning to fade. "I would've called you, you moved me away as I threw the gem…" Why did none of his plans ever work out?

With the worst healed, Akira was able to stand back up, only for more coughing to erupt from his throat. He's no doctor, but he was almost certain that this endeavor had permanently screwed up his lungs.

Despite the stranger next to them, their attention returned to the blanket of dust kicked up by the gem Akira had thrown. "Did we do it?" Mona hoped.

Hopes that were dashed as they heard another shot go off.

The cloud cleared, revealing The Reaper with one of its guns aiming at the air above it. The three could only watch as what little damage they managed to inflict on the phantom began fading away; all the rips and tears it endured instantly becoming mended, and the trickles of blood spilled when Akira threw the gem were erased.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Akira took a step backward. "I gave that thing a Megidolaon to its face. It's still alive?"

Another shot was fired and Akira saw the faint illumination of a purple light beginning to surround him. He had just enough time to see the orbs of light gather and combine into one before they would be brought down and finish him. No time to run, no means to reflect the attack—that attack would kill both of them instantly.

But as quickly as it appeared, it was met with another orb, causing to go off prematurely.

Akira raised his arms, shielding his eyes before turning in the direction that the second attack had originated from. Standing several yards away was another boy wearing another flamboyant similar to his own, complete with a mask vaguely resembling a bird. Another persona user like him?

If he's in public, that probably doesn't mean anything good for him. On the otherside, the chains were rattling as The Reaper began moving again, seeking to kill its original prey and this newcomer. Better a likely death than a certain one.

Seizing Mona (much to his chagrin), Akira carried his feline friend to the mysterious boy. "We'll this short. Call me Joker, and I have a lot of gems," he introduced. "The cat's Mona, he messes with the wind and heals. You?"

"Call me whatever you want," the stranger replied. "I use bless and curse, but I can also use Megidolaon. I assume you're familiar with the terminology?"

"I dunno many birds, so Crow it is," Akira was quick to think-up of a codename on the spot. "I threw a Megidolaon gem at it, but it's still going, so I hope you have really good plan, Crow."

The trio returned their focus to the creature ahead of them. There was no telling if any of them stood a chance against this thing, but Akira supposed that it was better that they try than not at all. And if they did, then Akira was going to have to hope that this guy was in a merciful mood when this was over.

* * *

 **After Responses (review responses made after I wrote most of the chapter)**

 **Dim95: I haven't forgotten Inaba. You'll learn exactly what happened to them later. Heck, you _MIGHT_ (this is a very strong might) be able to see Marie later.**

 **I don't have much to say after this chapter. I can say that it started getting late near the end there, so if it started feeling a little rushed, sorry. Also, I think I just gave Akira IPF (scarred lungs). I wonder if that'll cause trouble later on. No really, I currently have no idea. I gave him that on a whim.**

 **Actually, Akira needs to lawyer up, because he'll likely gain Mesothelioma and he may be entitled to financial compensation, am I right guys? Bad joke. Incredibly sorry.**


	10. Chapter 10

**In hindsight, I think I could have wrapped up the last chapter a bit better. Ah well, I guess that's what happens when you really want to get a chapter out after it's been ages.**

 **Perseus Ruby Sendou – Well, he is Persona-Jesus while Takaya was Revolver-Jesus. Yes, that's what I call them in my head.**

 **Last we left off, I do believe I had set Akira to get lung cancer when he's older. Shit, I'm getting Red Dead Redemption 2 flashbacks (R.I.P Arthur). On an unrelated note: I still hate writing fight scenes, especially when it involves non-human characters. Ah well, I signed up for this one. Sorry if it's not that good.**

 **Sometime later: Okay, fuck this. This fight will probably be underwhelming, but otherwise, this was going to take forever.**

* * *

Chains continued rattling, echoing throughout the desolate, tenebrous streets as the three stood in front of the source. The spectral form stood without a trace of whatever damage Akira had managed to inflict, looking down upon the three of them with its guns cocked and ready.

Akira tried to speak, only for the words to die in his throat as he was left coughing again. Whatever he inhaled, it was crippling him; even with Mona's help, he could barely breathe.

But his words were unnecessary, as Mona had been thinking the same as him. Glancing at the stranger, Mona asked, "Do you think you can take it?"

"With your help, perhaps." Crow eyed the creature like a hawk, watching its chain wrap around indefinitely and its single bloodshot eye gazing down at them.

It hasn't attacked them yet; was it hesitating or curious? Or rather, was this an expression of pride from it, being so confident as to allow them to prepare before engaging?

Whether it'd be caution, curiosity, or hubris, they all point to signs of intelligence that far exceeds that of a typical shadow. With that much power with a mind like this, what other surprises could this creature be withholding?

Crow's thoughts were interrupted when his ally's coughing grew louder; looking back, he saw the raven-haired boy repeatedly striking his own chest to breathe. Regardless of what he is, fighting directly would be suicide for him.

That leaves him and this 'Mona' feline creature. Would that be enough, or was he going to abandon this façade and reveal who he truly is?

He could only hope that this would be enough.

"Will he be alright?" Crow asked the furry creature that was trying to heal his friend.

Akira hissed through his teeth, pushing Mona back gently enough to avoid accidentally tripping him, and stood back on his feet. "I can still fight," he said, growling, "I'm not letting this many people die just to run away."

"Honorable sentiment," Crow replied, returning his attention to the Reaper as it remained there, levitating and watching, "I just hope that it won't be the end of you."

Another loud sound pierced the air at the firing of another shot into the air. The atmosphere began to transform, becoming heavier and frigid. Whatever was halting its hands, it was gone now; it was the time to fight.

"Robin Hood!" Crow was the first to act, his persona summed and drawing its shot as the Reaper began lining up its next shot.

Releasing his arrow, Crow's persona, Robin Hood, struck the creature in its shoulder, earning a cry. The arrow tore through, leaving a large gap between its body and arm that leaked a blackish mist.

But a wound such as that was not enough to stop it. Despite the seemingly massive injury, it persevered, firing a shot that was an unnatural black and red.

There wasn't enough time for the persona to move; the shot hit its mark, combusting into a mass of black and red.

The persona could only scream out in pain; it must have had a weakness for curse-based offenses, as it immediately began igniting into azure flames, howling as it faded away, sharing a mutual pain with its wielder as it returned.

The suffering of the persona caused Crow to clutch his head, feeling a burning sensation throughout his body and an intense headache forming instantly.

"Harrowing…" The Reaper condemned them and their efforts. No matter how hard they tried, fighting it was merely delaying the inevitable.

Fun as their futile efforts may be to destroy, it was not something that it would like to prolong much longer than it needed to. So when it saw one of them, healing the boy, it knew what to do next.

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Akira began following the creature's gaze. The distance between them, especially from this angle and such a disparity in height, made it difficult to pinpoint exactly what it was looking at.

But then, an epiphany occurred. If this thing was smart enough to talk, then did that mean it was smart enough to selectively target too? If that was the case, then its next target would likely be…

"Mona!" Akira called out to his friend, dashing forward and diving, desperately grabbing his friend just before the Reaper's shot fired, and the area behind sparked with yellow bolts of electricity.

Instinctively, Akira threw an attack of his own. The gem shattered on impact, forming icicles that immediately began piercing into the Reaper's jacket-like attire, leaking more of the blackish mist.

"Joker," The Reaper growled the boy's codename again. The mist that had been permeating from the wound solidified into large strands that connected from one end of the shoulder to the other, pulling the two pieces together until they were one whole again.

Crow summoned his persona again, holding his bow like a shield and clashing with the Reaper, halting its sudden charge as its eye remained focus on its prey. The Reaper merely held up one arm in defense, engaging the persona as the mist escaping from the crystals of ice began to act, shattering the icicles and closing the wounds they made.

"Thanks, Joker," Mona said, separating from his friend and returning to face the creature.

Checking his bag, Joker growled, closing it again and glaring. "That thing is gonna need more than what I have here."

"We… we need to—" once again, Joker's words were interrupted by another bit, feeling as if hands were wrapped around his throat suffocating him. Using everything he had in him, he was able to get only the faintest of breaths through.

"Joker, listen to me," Mona reached out, placing his paws on his face so that he was looking at him, "you _can't_ stay here!"

"I… I can't…" another cough.

"Listen to me," Mona was shouting at him, trying desperately to get him to listen. "You're its _target!_ You're in danger and you're sick! Leave or I will knock you out and drag you out of here myself!"

Akira was barely able to regain control of his breathing, leaving him a panting mess again. His hands were clenching, hoping that he could find a way to refute what his friend was saying.

But no, he was right. He was human; flesh and bone. Without exposing himself and signing his death warrant, he couldn't risk using his persona either.

His presence would only put his friend in danger, and if they fell, then there was no telling how many others would. But he had to _do_ something!

These gems weren't enough, yet—

"Give it hell," Akira nodded, biting his lip and dropping his bag, hoping those two could put what he had to good use.

With that settled, Akira dashed as fast as he could. Wherever he was going was a mystery to his enemy and allies alike.

Mona couldn't take time to watch his friend escape, however. Instead, summoning his persona, Zorro, he was able to assist Crow against the Reaper's assault.

The new persona struck the creature's head, not deep enough to leave a lasting wound, but enough to push it back.

"Crow, here!" Mona shouted, launching the bag in the Reaper's direction. With all those gems inside, all it needed was—

"Take the shot!"

The Reaper recovered only to see the bag become surrounded by a purple light before the pain began to course through its body again with another cloud of smoke surrounding it.

The pain only served to enrage the Reaper more, making it howl as it fired off more shots, forcing the air to dissipate to regain a visual of its two attackers. But when the cloud was gone, so were the two of them.

So this was the game they wanted to play? So be it. If it harmed them enough, then Joker would return as well.

Ah, friendship, one of the many things humans throw their lives away for.

* * *

"C'mon, c'mon…" Akira's voice was drowned out by another coughing fit, bringing him back to his numb knees. His body found itself shivering despite his coat, yet his body still found itself sweating heavily, making his quivering worse. As the coughing faded, but no matter how hard he tried, air would not come back in—more was still inside, but refused to leave.

The weight on his shoulders gradually began floating away. Try as he might, Akira found himself increasingly becoming less able to focus, and his thoughts had become incomprehensible. One after another, everything in his mind began fading like chalk on a sidewalk.

" _Stupid…"_ He found himself smiling as darkness began creeping in from the corners of his eyes. From there, the blackness could only spread, cloaking everything in a thick blanket like it was a gift from the midnight sky.

Akira might have been laughing were his lungs working how they were supposed to. Weird, he didn't remember falling onto his back. This wasn't good, now was it? No, no, of course not, his brain was being starved of oxygen now. No matter how hard he tries to fight it, eventually, his body won't be able to carry on.

" _That so bad…?"_ Oh yes, now he felt the best part. Now he's on his own cloud in heaven without a care in the world. That thing running around probably just to go around killing everything—that's bad, very bad, yet it felt so… funny. Everything felt so funny now.

But, people were dying—were going to continue to die like this. The creature was after _him,_ and without him, everyone was going to be slaughtered. He's even surrounded by corpses now; corpses that were too burnt up for a pool of blood to form or had been left in so many pieces, there was no telling if they were the remains of several or just one.

They were all dead because of a creature looking for him. They were all dead because of _him._

They were all gone like _—_

Summoning the last of his strength, Akira outstretched his arms. Interlacing his fingers, Akira formed a double-fist before striking his chest with everything he had.

The trapped air finally escaped through more hagged coughs, perhaps mixing with some blood but his senses had dulled too much to tell. No, instead, the entirety body was solely focused on breathing.

Through the numbness, Akira forced his unsteady legs to support him. Though his feet were constantly left skidding on the ground beneath him, Akira continued to push on into the building he and Makoto had been to before.

There, in the building, Joker was greeted to the sight of several people. Were it not for the old, worn-out pieces of clothing on some of them, the poor and rich were indistinguishable from one another as they huddled together for warmth, comfort, or merely to have someone near them should the worst happen.

But he had to ignore their gazes and questions. Retracing his steps, Akira was led to the same wall that he had been to just a few weeks before, and there he was greeted by the same crates as before.

"Please, please, please…" Akira muttered, rummaging through the crates. Without even opening them, Akira could tell they were empty, having had their contents exhausted when the guards tried fighting the Reaper.

Nevermind the contents, over half of the actual boxes, were missing. The situation must have had become so dire that they abandoned standard protocol and began taking everything with them.

"Dammit, no, no, no…" one after the other, they all came out empty. Some weren't even opened properly, having been had the locks and hinges broken, perhaps from when things began to become chaotic outside.

Nothing! There was nothing here! He only had a small number of gems in his bag; nowhere near enough to make a difference against that _thing,_ no matter how strategically they're used.

That thing shrugged off a Megidolaon to its face—what else could he do? He couldn't fight that thing like this, at least not without earning himself an early grave.

Of course, there was his _other_ option as well, but would that even work? He's used it for small things out in the countryside before, even facing a few shadows, but never for something like this.

If he did—regardless of whether or not it made a difference—he was essentially screwing himself over. He could only assume that Yaldabaoth and Shido let him live as long as he did because they viewed him as an anarchist, a problem that would resolve itself eventually.

If they knew the truth, then they would stop at nothing to find him. Only two options that remained for him at that point would be to either be Yaldabaoth's plaything like 'Crow' (whatever that entailed) or be executed because he would be too much of a threat to risk imprisoning indefinitely.

Then again, Mona already revealed himself, so what more would it do at this point? Would the fact that he's a literal _cat_ change anything? Was it a risk worth taking?

Should he hide what he was and let others suffer? Or should he out himself with no guarantee that he still has a chance?

Shaking his head, Akria moved to make his way out of here. If there even a chance that he could stop that monster, then he had to take it, regardless if—

"Wait!" A voice came out and froze the boy where he stood. Akira turned to the direction of the voice, seeing a small boy barely able to drag a case to him, "Were you looking for one of these, Mr. Phantom? One of the soldiers dropped this when they were leaving."

The thief didn't even bother with manners, quickly snatching the case and inspecting it. It had a lot of weight to it, so it was still full; turning it, he saw that the box appeared to be undamaged, unfortunately meaning that it was still locked.

Reaching into his coat, Akira pulled out his lockpick, only to find that the handle had broken, and the pick itself had bent in several directions, rendering it unusable. That said, once he left, he could just burn through the lock and open the case that way.

"Congrats, kiddo, you're a hero!" Akira gave the boy a little piece of encouragement before running out of the building.

* * *

"Pitiful," the Reaper's voice echoed throughout the streets as it scanned the ruined city.

Realizing how outclassed they were, the two had resorted to the coward's way of fighting. Now, they hide and were no doubt holding their breath as it drew closer to them.

If that was the game they wished to play, then so be it. It was time to see how well they could adapt.

Another shot was fired, leading to ground crumbling and screaming as the ice began to coat it, finding its way into the various cracks and crevices, only to create ten more. The world was already covered in snow, so half the work was already done for it.

Gazing down at the ground beneath it, the Reaper saw its form reflecting from the icy roads. Some of the ice appeared to be much thinner than the rest, appearing to be almost invisible to the naked eye.

Of course, ice only matters to those that walk on land. The Reaper's ghostly form had no reason to worry and floated atop the ground as always, undeterred by its little trap.

Perhaps it should go to the schools next? Children often go where they are most familiar with during a time of crisis, a pattern that is easily exploitable. The ordinary mortals had become absent, realizing the futility of trying to confront it and praying that these two could. Perhaps another repeat of Osaka was necessary?

But then its patience was rewarded in the sounds of ice crepitating.

The Reaper was swift to act, destroying everything in its path as it hurried to the origin of the noise. Buildings, old lampposts, frozen corpses—all were rendered to nothing but ash and dust until it reached its destination.

But it was there that the Reaper found nothing. The ice had fissures, of course, but there was nothing there—nothing but pieces of mortar now. These buildings were old; a brick must have come loose and landed.

The Reaper might have begun destroying everything in its vicinity, were it not for more sounds of ice fracturing, rapidly this time, and becoming louder as it drew near.

Turning around the Reaper had just enough time to see the arrow that Crow had launched before it struck it directly in its bloodied sack. It couldn't go too deep, with the tip only able to penetrate a centimeter or less.

What _did_ do, however, was explode the same form of red and black that it had done to its owner earlier. Despite the arrow itself barely able to penetrate the sack, the explosion earned shriek of pain from the creature.

Crow's eyes could only widen as he watched the creature's head lower, ichor spurting in unnatural quantities and mixing with ice and snow, turning them into a dark, tar-like sludge. He found himself remaining still, transfixed by either the sight or the laughter; laughter that started as soft chuckles, only for it to continue growing into a deep, booming voice that could be heard throughout the whole city.

The reality was quick to catch-up, however. Whatever had driven the Reaper into its fit of laughter was waning, allowing it to raise its head, and it exposed the plump, bloodied mass of sludge, and what could only be described as flesh. The only thing still left recognizable was its single eye, still bloodshot and refocusing on the boy in front of it.

Crow tried to move, but his legs only continued to refuse him. The area was covered in ice, making escape difficult now. In the unlikely event that he could elude it, then the snow prints would leave a nifty trail for the Reaper to follow.

No, Crow's body had frozen stiff, ignoring any of his commands as the Reaper began approaching him. The ichor had been reduced to large droplets that continued to fall, leaving a trail of bloody tears in the snow beneath the creature.

Behind the creature, Crow saw Zorro manifesting just before driving his blade through the back of the creature's head, piercing its eye that hanged at the tip of the blade. With the blade fixed in its cranium, the Reaper ceased its movements, remaining a lifeless statue as the bloody tears continued to fall.

Of course, the Reaper a manifestation of Death. Perhaps not the god, but a certain kinship was there. Deity or not, it was death. As such, Death itself _dying_ was paradoxical—a paradox that the world would not let continue.

Without warning, chains were surrounding Zoro, wrapping around him and crushing the persona. The agony of the persona was secondary, however. What mattered was that the torment distracting—distracting enough so that its owner was now stunned.

Fighting through the pain, the cat turned around and began running in a full sprint until an explosion deafened his ears and sent him forward several feet, sending him crashing into a pile of snow and ice.

Impacting with the ice, it shattered beneath his weight. Dumb luck dictated that most that had broken into shards were thankfully harmless, Mona could feel a select few digging into his skin and drawing blood. But as quickly as they were noticed, they began melting away.

Wait a minute; they were _melting!_ By the time he realized what was happening, Mona found himself lying in a pile of freezing water that was quickly joined by more streams that all seemingly led to the same source.

"Oh no," was all Mona could get out before the shot was fired. There was a blinding flash as the spark struck before he completely lost control of his body; his muscles began convulsing, control completely ceasing to the point that he was unable to even scream from the hell he was forced to endure.

The Reaper barely had time to let out a brief chuckle before it was forced to raise its arm again, defending against another clash from Robin Hood. The sense of shock and awe that had compelled the boy before had worn off it would seem.

But the clash was futile. The boy did not have enough strength to overpower it, nor could he distract it long enough to cease its assault on the feline until the pitiful creature had expired.

That was, at least, until it saw the faint purple light reflecting off of the persona and its own arms. The persona retreated and The Reaper felt another explosion at its back.

The Reaper snarled, turning around to face its attacker now. Any semblance of mocking joy that it gained from toying with them had faded.

"Forget about little old me?" Akira asked, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head, flashing a mocking smile. The curled lips, however, quickly shifted to a deep frown when he glanced at his friend. He was unconscious—barely having survived that thing's sadistic torture but alive nonetheless. "Stay away from my cat."

"Joker…"

The Reaper reacted quickly, but not to attack Akira. No, turned around with its arm extended, catching the resummoned Robin Hood before he could attack and slamming into a nearby building. It's drawn this game out long enough; it was time to settle this.

But Crow had already anticipated this persona was too weak to leave any lasting damage; its survival of his first Megidolaon had proved that. No, the futile effort served as a distraction, providing enough of a window for Crow to rendezvous with Joker.

The Reaper, however, was no longer wasting time with its prey. With the persona stunned by impacting with the now crumbled building, it was all over with a quick shot to his head.

But when the Reaper returned its gaze to where Joker had been, he was gone—him and his pose. That, however, was fine with it. They could run, but they wouldn't get far.

* * *

"He'll live," Akira breathed a sigh of relief, holding his friend close with one arm. They had run as fast as they could, turning multiple corners in the hopes that whatever was left of the city would shield them from the creature's view long enough.

Crow's attention, however, was on what was in Akira's _other_ hand, "I see you found one of our cases."

How did he get that open, he wondered. Perhaps a simple lock pick? While not condoned, it wasn't an unheard-of practice due to the need to stash so many in so many places.

"Huh?" Akira's eyes widened, the reality of the situation occurring to him once again. "Yeah, I found one. My guess is some soldier or something never got the chance to use, but left it unlocked for me. I never knew the dead made offerings to the living, eh?"

Crow scoffed, "A casual jest? Now?!"

Akira returned the gesture, giving a scowl of his own. "Yes! Yes, Crow. I am joking. I can barely breathe, my friend nearly _died,_ and I don't want to think of how many people are under the ice we're standing on. So yeah, I told a damn joke!"

The words seemed to reach the boy whose gaze instantly softened. He spoke again, this time in a much more subdued manner, "my apologies. But while we're here, we need to think of a plan."

"Yeah, but—" Akira's words were caught in his throat again but not by his own ailments. No, he was rendered paused when he noticed several purple lights beginning to form in the sky, one after the other like the stars beyond. Then, he was able to find his voice again, "those aren't fireworks!"

Though they tried to run again, the lights were quicker. With them all descending towards the ground, the area became engulfed the light.

In its wake, everything was reduced to rubble. Though covered by a thick cloud of dust, The Reaper's advance was not impeded in the slightest. As it approached, it merely pushed the grey blankets in the air aside, coming closer and closer to where it felt its target.

Suddenly, there was more pain; pain in the form of claws piercing its bloodied sack, having emerged from the dust to attack.

From the claws, The Reaper felt a mass of energy building up, culminating in a similar explosion to what Robin Hood had done before, sending it backward again.

This persona, however, was not as hesitant as Robin Hood had been. Flapping the pair of wings attached to its waists, the persona dashed forward, only to be thwarted by a shot through its torso, where one could only surmise its heart would be.

Aggressive or not, the persona was forced to retreat, and The Reaper was free to completely clear the air, revealing the user to be none other than its target and…

And…

And…

… those eyes.

Joker was leaning, barely standing alongside his unconscious allies and with one hand covering a portion of his face, but those _eyes_ poked through as he glared at it; those familiar eyes.

It was then that it became clear to the creature why it had been sent here. There were two possible outcomes, and both would have been successes for _him._

During this time of revelation, The Reaper noticed small droplets of pink rain beginning to fall—a warning from Yaldabaoth himself. Its presence would no longer be tolerated. However, it was too late; The Reaper had already succeeded.

Firing one last shot, the Reaper vanished into blackish mist without a word.

When Crow opened his eyes, he found himself alone. Akira must have run at the first opportunity with his strange feline friend, but he neglected to bring his _case_ with him. Instead, it was left to be discovered by Crow, who quickly removed the attire given to him by his… better side.

Akechi took one look at the case and his question was answered. It was just as he thought.

"Melted," he muttered, putting the object down.

* * *

Akira was left stumbling and coughing.

There was too much! He breathed in too much of that dust too soon.

His head was felt like its weight was fading every second and his fingers had long since gone numb.

Darkness was surrounding him again, forcing him to rely on muscle memory and wishful thinking. Were it not for the companion he carried alongside him, he might've given up by now.

No, he had to keep going.

It was just a little further.

A little further, and he was able to burst through a familiar door.

A familiar door to a familiar place.

It was a comforting thought, but a brief one that was quickly joined by blackness as he fell to the floor.

* * *

 **This... took... too... damn... long!**

 **Seriously, do you know how many times I've written this fight! Too damn many! And I'm angry because I have no one else to complain to, dammit! If parts of the description doesn't match or something is referenced that didn't happen, the many re-writes is why.**

 **But on a serious note: Akira probably has lung cancer. Well, not literally (yet?). If Akechi seemed like a wimp here, do remember what he was up against. Literally the only reason these 3 are still alive is because of its ego and... something else. Have fun on that one theorists because I'm not telling you for a very long time.**


	11. Chapter 11

**I should be writing DFW right now, but in light of how long this took to update, this chapter likely being a shorter one, and DFW's own semi-hiatus due to being in a difficult spot, I think I'll just update this again.**

 **Also, I don't mean to sound desperate but review, please? I'm a bit of a review hound, so not having those feels wrong. Or maybe I'm just whining, who knows anymore?**

* * *

" ** _Have I ever stated how fruitless this endeavor is?"_** Death whispered into his prison's ear, the boredom of traveling was starting to get to it.

"I don't remember asking you," Minato's response was immediate, prompting a confused look from the girl next to him. "Not you," he assured, although this only confused her more.

" ** _Oh yes, and the child,"_** Death's chuckles began echoing in his ears, and the bluenette found himself unconsciously balling his fists. **_"Tell me, what is your plan with her? Sell her off to the nearest flesh-den? Perhaps you could try another orphanage; perhaps this one won't fool you so easily? Or are you keeping her until the next fool moon; I didn't think you would be so eager to relive that day."_**

"Shut. Up," Minato scoffed, but this only served to entertain the creature more. That thing knew him well, far better than he cared to admit.

Death made what could only be compared to a tutting sound, **_"Oh, Minato, do you never learn?"_** Playing with him was one of its favorite past times. Death knew just how to anger him or hit him where he hurts the most, although the child was a new variable to add to this little experiment.

A weak voice spoke up, "are… you okay?"

"Fine," Minato scoffed, shaking his head in an attempt to push that abomination _out_ of it. Now was not the time to be dealing with this.

How long have they been walking now? He had been neglecting keeping track ever since he started letting her tag along with him. Every day that passed was another night closer, and the moon would loom over them with its light serving as an insidious reminder of what awaits.

There were still weeks before that could happen, however, so he still had some time left to find a place to get rid of her. But damn, what was he supposed to do, drop her off at another orphanage and pray this one works out?

An exasperated sigh escaped his lips as he thought, _"I hate my life."_ He could barely take care of himself, what web weaver of fate decided that it would be a good idea to thrust the burden of taking care of a child on him?

Saki continued to look at him in bewilderment. This is the fifth time she's seen him talking to himself now—was he a loon?

Should she say something? No, she was young, but she understood the futility of trying. She would be surprised if he was even listening to her.

Where were they going? Her feet were killing her from the days of endless walking and her shoes were beginning to fall apart. Looking down, she could see the soles beginning to separate from the rest, allowing some snow to begin falling inside the gaps, and melt, wearing them down more.

Abruptly he paused, holding out his hand as a gesture for her to do the same. "We're here," Minato warned.

"Here?" Saki took a single step forward, squinting her eyes. It was almost impossible to see anything more than a few feet away; there were several times that Minato had grabbed her by the arm to stop her from treading too far away.

Placing her hands around her eyes, Saki focused harder. She could barely make out just faintest of figures out in the distance. A few more of the many hills littered throughout the landscape and some of the withered twigs that stuck out of the ground.

But all of the details eventually stop after a certain point. No matter how hard she tried focusing, everything in the distance just seemed to stop like she staring at a wall.

"A wall?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, turning to face her and kneeling down, "I don't remember the name of this place. I think I called this whole area Yama-Yama when I was around your age."

"Yama… Yama?" Saki repeated slowly, stressing each syllable with a scrunched up face that told him that it was as awkward for her to say as it was for him to hear.

"That's not important," he dismissed his younger self's actions, "listen to me, when we're in those walls, you're my daughter, got it?"

A confused expression quickly formed—was this suppose to be his form of adoption or something?

Noticing her bewilderment, Minato let out an exasperated sigh before gripping her by her shoulders, "Look, you're an orphan just like me. Do you know what I learned? They don't care about us; we're nothing more than another mouth to feed to them. I learned this the hard way," he warned her, unconsciously rubbing his side. "Do not let them learn what you are! If you do, then they'll think that you're just another bastard-child that should be scorned and left to die alone."

Saki blinked, "b-bastard..?"

Minato shook his head, "Remember when I mentioned social stigmas before? That's another; I'll explain later. Now I'm gonna carry you and then we're going to go right to that gate. When I do this, don't say a word, understood?"

The girl nodded, "okay."

"Good," Minato gave a slight smile to show his approval before taking her into his arms. She must have been more exhausted than he had realized, because the moment he lifted her, her head was quick to find a resting place on his shoulder.

" _I'm sorry,"_ he thought, carrying her to the gates as he finally had the time to see how her brief time on the road had taken their toll.

Her shoes were almost in pieces. The soles were coming apart, leaving a wide gap that only seemed to be growing with every step he took. With the soles nearly gone, Minato could spot several spots where holes were beginning to form; he didn't even want to think about how cold her feet were. It was a miracle she wasn't frostbitten yet.

Her leggings weren't much better. Having been dragged through the snow, the fabrics had long since become shriveled with wear and tear quickly following. Everything else she wore—her dress, jacket, etc—were facing similar problems. The only thing in decent condition was the scarf he had given her.

Of course, everything she had was tattered! Why would they give her decent clothing if they were going to rid themselves of her later? He should have expected this. He could have packed more things from that town before he left—before he burnt it to the ground in his rampage.

Alas, there was no changing the past—a lesson he had learned years ago.

A voice called out to him, driving him to halt and ceasing his approach. Looking up atop the wall and standing beside the gate, Minato saw a man looking down at him.

"Who are you?" The man demanded.

"Yuki," Minato answered immediately. It was a common name, so it quickly became one of his favorites when the need to anonymity arouse; between now and the past week or so, he couldn't think of a better time.

There was a pause before the man spoke again, perhaps pondering the truthfulness of his response before replying, "What are you doing here, Yuki?" He asked, extending his arms out slightly as a gesture.

"My daughter," he answered, looking down at the girl clutching onto him, eyes closed and giving the appearance that she was drifting off to sleep already. "Please, our home was burned down and we have nowhere else to go."

Though the guard at the gate was too far away for Minato to know for certain, he could only infer that he was focusing his gaze on the child. "And so you came here?"

"I told you," he replied, "we have nowhere else."

"And how many times do you think I've heard that?" The man replied with a harshness in his voice that made the bluenette wince. "And do you think you're the first to bring a kid here?"

"Shit," Minato muttered, hopefully suppressing his voice enough that one else could hear, "So what? You're just going to leave us out here to die?"

"I guess I am," there was a form of solemnness in his voice; he has doubts over his actions, but he won't the risk in case he's wrong, "Sorry, but we have to look after our own. I'm sure you can understand that."

" _Shit, shit…"_ This was not the outcome that he was hoping for, albeit one that he expected. The story he gave wasn't one that everyone hasn't said/heard a thousand times and will continue to spout for a hundred more.

They had no reason to trust him or care about the girl with him. Come an hour or so, and they wouldn't even remember his name. After all, eventually, they all start melding together and sounding alike.

It's not like he was any different. How many lives has he taken now? He had been too afraid to keep count when he was younger, and now it just seemed futile to even try. Once it felt terrifying—wrong, but now, it felt normal—as natural as breathing when things begin to take a turn for the worse.

The act of killing was wrong; it was something to avoid whenever it could. Morality was a concept that everyone possessed to some extent— from a naïve child to an old man on his deathbed. If one were to lack any form of morality, then they would be human in name only.

But humans are complex, as is their morality along with it. Stealing is wrong, yet right when you feed a starving child. Hurting others is wrong, yet sometimes that is the only way to defend yourself. Killing another is wrong, yet right when you are trying to save another.

The man is trying to protect everyone inside the walls. Minato is trying to protect the girl he saved—the one that had no one else thanks to his stupidity. He knew her name; they had a history—however little it was. He would remember her.

"I won't remember you."

 ** _"We won't remember you."_**

The man wasn't given a chance to respond. Silencing whatever words he might have had, Minato's persona placed its blade against the man's throat. From there, all it would take him is a single order and both the wall and snow in front of him would be painted crimson.

A loud bang echoed, presumably coming from another section of the wall. One of the other guards must have shot to kill him, only to find the bullet finding itself going into a barely transparent mirror, redirecting it back at its owner. The trajectory was changed slightly, of course. It would be a warning to anyone who had any similar ideas.

He didn't know his name; he couldn't even see his face. If he killed him and then forced that gate open, then he would forget all about him in a few weeks. It's the world they live in now; he knew the risks when he refused him.

Interrupting Minato's thoughts was a cough erupting from the girl. When he turned his head to her, he saw that her eyes had been closed shut, and she was clutching onto him tightly, trembling no-doubt after hearing what he was going to do.

This girl had been forced to witness the death of her friends, suffering from betrayal from those she trusted the most. It was his foolishness that enabled the actions leading to her friends' demise, and nearly her own were it not for him saving her before it was too late.

" _I-It…. hurts…"_ The memory began replaying in his head. The world around him began shifting, everything becoming out of focus and blurry except her—the girl covered in her own blood, sitting against the wall as the life faded from her all over again.

There's been enough death for her. She doesn't deserve to see another so soon.

"Last warning," Minato growled, eyes brightening as he glared daggers into the man above, "let us in, or tear you and this wall apart."

What began as a boon was now becoming a hindrance; he couldn't see his face from this distance. There was fear there, of course—that went without saying, even without reading his expression. But what was he going to do next?

He could continue to deny him, believing him to be bluffing. What would Minato do then? Commit to what he said, despite the reason for his hesitance?

Did he even want to know what he would do?

Minato could he the man's head turn to the side, perhaps looking at one of those responsible for trying to kill him before. Was this a sign of panic or a gesture for some plan?

The waiting was unbearable—at this rate, they were going to freeze to death out here. "What's it gonna be?" Minato asked, demanding a resolution now.

The man's attention returned to him for a moment before looking back and speaking to people behind him—his voice was too low for Minato to understand what he said.

A loud creaking sound began filling the air, making Minato wince from the assault on his eardrums as he watched the gate slowly begin opening, revealing roads that looked recently cleared of snow.

Glancing at the man above whose hands were raised, Minato recalled his persona after passing the gates. There were several other people standing beside the entrance, cowering after his display.

But this was fine—them fearing him was preferable. If they feared him, then they will know better than to betray him.

"Hey," Minato whispered to the girl he was still holding as he wandered the streets, "how are you doing?"

"I'm tired," she murmured, nuzzling her head against him. Her feet must have been killing her, to say nothing of how sore her legs must be after walking so much for so long.

"Yeah," Minato replied, eying the various buildings around him until he found what looked to be a hotel, "how about tomorrow, I find you some new clothes?"

Saki mumbled something against him, shifting her head so that she could speak clearly again before saying, "thank you."

" _Don't mention it,"_ he thought, entering the hotel.

Shutting the door behind them provided little solace from the unrelenting cold outside. The building was dark with little means of lighting outside of a few lanterns sporadically placed throughout the halls.

Hearing the sounds of the door closing, a woman that one could only assume was in charge of the approached with a smile that almost instantaneously transformed into a cold scowl the moment she saw the two strangers where they don't belong.

Ignoring the glare, Minato asked, "how much?"

"Whatever is too much for you," she scoffed. It would seem that she was quite the charmer.

"Right," Minato sighed, shaking his head. Normally, he would simply leave and see if there was someone else desperate enough to take him, but he wasn't the only one he had to take into consideration now. "Look, it's just one night."

Her response was as quick as it was harsh, "one night too many. It's all you'll need to slit my throat and rob my corpse."

Minato growled, contemplating his next course of action. He was still holding Saki, so taking matters into his own hands was out of the question. Although, he has a few personas that might fit a space as small as this.

"Please," a weak voice called out. They both look down at the girl who had opened her eyes again, the look of exhaustion ever-present in her eyes. "We won't stay long," Minato wouldn't help but wonder, was she weak from fatigue setting in or had he terrified the girl with what he was about to do next, so now she was fighting to speak before it was too late.

The woman's gaze softened, if only for a moment when directing it at the girl before returning to the man still holding her. "One night," she compromised, "after that, you're one your own."

"That's all I need," he agreed.

"Up the stairs," she directed him, "it'll be the second door on your left."

Minato thanked the woman, climbing up the steps before retreating into his room. Inside was a single bed with sheets showing several signs of wear and tear—it would still function, however.

Carefully placing Saki down on the bed, Minato sat down on the edge to let out a long sigh, "thanks for the help."

The girl only let out a few incoherent mumbles, nuzzling against the pillow. Minato was sure she had fallen asleep before calling, "Mr. Arisato."

"-san," Minato interrupted. "Sorry, just call me Arisato-san, please. It's a personal thing."

"Okay," she complied. "Arisato-san."

"Yeah?"

"You were really scary," she confessed. Either the scene at the gate or the woman left an impression on her—far more than he wanted.

"I know," Minato's response came out as a whisper as he looked down at his hands, trying to ignore the chuckling he heard at the back of his head—ignore the presence looming over him.

"Try to get some sleep," he asked, lying down with his back against the floor and his almost empty bag as a pillow. It wasn't the most gracious of places to rest, but it would do for the night.

* * *

" _Subject number 31D012,"_ the title would occasionally find itself returning to the back of his head. The man never learned his name, so he took to calling him by that title whenever recording his notes.

The 'name' greeted him with every opening of his journal, provoking a shiver from the memories it would bring alongside it. He had no voice and with no voice, he was always surrounded but alone. Without his voice, this journal was his only means of leaving his mark on the world—something separate from the atrocities he is forced to commit.

The former test subject ran his hand through the paper, shivering once his fingers reached his old title. It's a cursed name if it could even count as a name. Yet, it was far better than the alternative that he was universally known as.

"Lupine," his master called out to him, triggering a jolt that nearly caused him to fall out of the withered tree branches he was resting on.

Lupine, that cursed name. It was a reminder, the same as the other—a reminder of what he was now.

Looking down, he quickly found his master, accompanied by Rin, the 'mistress' as she likes to call herself. Strange, the Black Butterfly was with him too—highly usual. Whoever this person was, he must have been very formidable to warrant his presence as well.

The hound returned to the ground, following his unspoken orders. He knew where their quarry had gone, and now that his master had returned, he knew what was coming.

* * *

"Brrr," Saki shivered, rubbing her arms together through her jacket. The heater in her pocket and the new clothes Minato had gotten her kept her safe from the worst of it, but the cold was persistent. Despite burying her hands in sleeves, she continued to feel the painful cold in her fingers, gradually spreading throughout her being.

Despite her efforts to hide it, Minato raised an eyebrow. She must still not be used to the cold, having been coddled by that asylum for most of her life. He might be better off to let her endure; she needed to learn how to deal with the cold one way or another.

But where does the line between teaching perseverance and needless torture begin and end? Before he awoke to his persona, he barely managed to survive by currying a few favors, relying on generosity, or by scavenging whatever he could, whenever he could, and wherever he could to survive.

But He was alone then and she's not. No matter how temporary, he was her caregiver. She didn't deserve to live how he did—he had to think of something.

"Hmm," Minato hummed, diverting his gaze from her. He bought her new clothes and other necessities with some to spare, so maybe he could do something?

This was enough to catch the orphan's attention, causing her to let out, "Huh?"

Minato tilted his head towards a building with a sign she couldn't read sticking out. "Want a bath?" Proper baths were in short supply on the read; they were one of those simple pleasures that he had been forced to adapt to living without, but to turn down an opportunity would be borderline insanity—that, and what better way to take his mind off things?

The sentiment seemed to be shared by the girl. She instantly began brightening up, forgetting about the cold as she began bouncing up and down, bringing her hands out of her sleeves to put them together as she begged, "please, please, please, please…!"

"Okay, okay," Minato did his best to seem annoyed, rolling his eyes with his hands deep in his pockets, counting the coins he has left. He should have enough for her, maybe even both of them.

The child was practically skipping as they walked to the bathhouse, only settling down slightly at Minato's command before they went inside. Inside, they were greeted by the welcoming and warm air. The windows all looked wet from condensation and Minato couldn't help but wonder just how successful this place—or even this entire city—was to have airconditioned buildings.

Nonetheless, a bathhouse was a bathhouse. As long as it had warm water, the place would be fine. He would just have to leave by tomorrow at least to avoid trouble.

Minato approached the counter, placing several coins on the desk and asking, "one for me and one for the kid. Is that enough?"

"No," the man answered, barely giving him a passing glance.

Furrowing his brow, Minato replied, "You didn't count."

"Don't need to," the man dismissed before glaring daggers into him. "We don't take your kind around here."

"My kind?" Of course, what else could he have expected? The other shopkeepers had been wary of him as well, but there was one thing that always changed their minds. "Look, just take the girl then, okay? She's been through enough," Minato asked, placing a few more on the counter to sweeten the deal.

The receptionist glanced at the coin for a moment before directing his gaze to the girl and sighing, "fine."

"You have assistants, right—you can have one of them help her?" Baths like this used to be public experiences, but that practice died with the old world—mostly anyway. Yaldabaoth kept it alive along with some rare, better-off cities.

Outside of those places, the practice had been repurposed to be more private in nature. Private didn't necessarily make it any less innocuous; most places didn't have a way to have heated water en masse, so they relegated the baths for smaller groups of people. The only exception would special occasions, provided there were ample warnings and payment in advance, naturally.

The receptionist nodded in confirmation, standing from his seat and taking them aside to a hall with several rooms that presumably each lead to separate baths.

The ground was white marble, something to be expected given what it was used for. However, the floors were also awfully dry. Either they did a good job with cleaning or today was slow businesswise. Maybe his arrival got around faster than he had thought?

No, it was faint but Minato could hear something from the other side of the building. It sounded like someone fell and a few people were laughing. He must have led them away to avoid offending his other customers—awfully considerate of him.

The man stopped, opening the door to one of the baths and saying, "the child can use this one. It's smaller, but should still give her some room to play around if she wants."

Minato nodded, turning to Saki. "You think you can handle being on your own for a little bit? I'll be nearby if you need me."

Saki gave a nod of her own in return, a small smile still on her face hiding the unease peaking through.

"An assistant will be with you shortly," The receptionist assured the girl as she entered the room, closing the door behind her.

Good, no child meant no need to worry about scaring her. There was one thing Minato needed to make clear.

"You listen and listen well," Minato hissed through his teeth, his eyes brightening in response, "if that little girl gives me any reason to believe that anyone even thought about doing anything to her, they'll never find the pieces when I'm through with you."

The man struggled, naturally. The panic in his eyes was quick to begin settling in, only intensifying once the bluenette's hands began tightening around his throat. He could have the life choked out of him here and now, and there would be nothing he could do about it—something Minato was counting on.

When threatened with death, people were always quick to break. The man could only nod, silently admitting defeat via his whimpers before Minato through him to the ground.

"The 'assistants' are all women, I take it?" Minato asked, looking at the man who raised no objection, "spread the word for me, will you?" Women treating children was common; nurturing and caring maternal instincts must have meant something, right?

Minato knew better than to believe that though. After all, it wasn't long ago that a woman alongside a whole town decided to send so many children to their deaths. Women were human and humans were all capable of atrocities.

But that little piece of cynicism is what he came to forget, however briefly. Grabbing onto the knob of the door directly opposing the one Saki had entered, Minato spoke, "I'm taking this one—feel free to stop me."

Of course, the man remained silent. After all, he needs to be suicidal to refuse him now.

With a soft thud, the door behind him closed somewhat harder than he intended. The room was silent apart from his breathing and footsteps from outside that were getting further and further. Warm humid air greeted him, reminding him of the spring or maybe summer weather that he had all but forgotten.

In the center of the room was a bath, naturally. It was rectangular and was raised somewhat higher than what he was used to, likely to allow more water in. Upon closer inspection, there were tiny gems scattered throughout the tub—heaters, by the looks of it.

Using defective gems to heat a tub? Clever, he was going to have to make note of that trick. He used to mix-up the gems with their defective counterparts too often, but if they can be used to heat water, then he might have a use for them. Beside the bath was a yellow towel, no doubt to avoid getting water everywhere once one steps out.

"No showers," Minato noted. It looks like the bath was all he was going to get. Ironic considering going into a bath without one was frowned upon back then if memory served him. Maybe they were reserved for whatever service the normal customers received? Or more likely, they're a part of history only he and some others remember.

The tiles grey here and some appeared to have been cut to fit this room. Perhaps this building wasn't always a bathhouse and certain pieces were brought in to repurpose it? Whatever the case, it's one now.

Beside him was a small bin. No need to guess what that was for, considering the lack of a changing area (or one that he was allowed in, anyway).

Approaching the basket, Minato kicked off his shoes and began undressing. His hoodie and shirt went first, making him pause at the sight of his scars; some of them were old, while some looked somewhat fresh.

Most were from his early days as a persona-user, although there was one below his lowest right rib that he had him unconsciously rubbing and wincing at the memory. When he was younger, he got into a fight with kids for reasons that he couldn't be bothered to remember, only to learn the hard way that one had something sharp with them.

It was his first lesson of what kind of world he lived in now; it would be something that he would take to the grave.

When the reminiscing was over, Minato slowly began settling himself into the warm water. The warm sensation against his skin forcing an exhale from him as he relaxed inside the bath.

The contrast between the temperature of the water and the air made him shiver, briefly causing him to bite his lip when he clenched his hands, waiting for his body to adjust again. Slowly, the goosebumps that appeared on his skin faded and he was allowed to close his eyes and enjoy the heat.

Supposedly, these baths were meant to be a place of meditation. What did that mean—reflection—trying to find peace with yourself or some other mystical nonsense? All he knew was that he better not get dragged into the Velvet Room again.

Velvet Room, he hadn't thought of that place for a long time. Similarly, he had no desire to return there in the near future. If he recalled correctly, he last told Philemon that he would kill him if he saw him again—not that that would be possible given the nature of his existence. It would still be worth the effort, if only for the catharsis.

Although, he would be lying if he said that he hadn't missed Elizabeth for all her various oddities. She was a one-of-a-kind woman that was naive to how the old world was and sharing what little he could remember always brought back familiar, comforting feelings from his childhood.

But he wasn't the only person who knew about the Velvet Room. There was another who had friends of his own—someone that he was hoping he wouldn't think about.

"Shit," Minato cursed himself. It was a terrible idea to let himself settle down. Now, the memories are going to start coming back to him. "Sorry, Yu."

Fortunately, it was interrupted when Minato heard the door opening and closing again.

Opening one eye, Minato saw a woman. She was tall by most standards, probably being eye-to-eye with him. She possessed long black hair that went slightly past her shoulders, surprisingly not even tied in a knot like Minato would expect. She didn't look that old, maybe being in her early to mid-twenties like him.

"You've got the wrong room," Minato closed his eyes again. "The kid is next door."

"Don't worry," the woman assured him, her footsteps getting closer until she was next to him. "I was asked to give you a hand, completely free of charge."

"Free, huh?" Minato chuckled. It looks like that little threat he gave also came with a little bonus too. There weren't many chances he had to be lazy, so he might as well take it.

"Uh-huh," her voice was gentle, almost a whisper. Minato couldn't help but find it rather soothing.

There was a brief flinch when he felt a hand on his arm, forcing it to retreat. Letting out a deep exhale, Minato relaxed again, letting the soft hand gently grasp his arm before raising it slightly.

There was a quick sound of something entering the water beside him, quickly followed up by the sounds of streams of water falling back into the bath. When the streams began to lower in intensity, likely by the object having some of the excess water squeezed out, Minato felt what he assumed to be a sponge rubbing against his elevated arm.

"Sweet little girl, you've got," She complimented, continuing to scrub him down. "Is she yours?"

Simple question, but not one that he could provide an honest answer for. "Let's just say I had a fun time as a teenager."

The woman laughed, dipping the sponge back into the water. "I'll bet. Her mom anywhere?"

Minato shook his head, eyes still closed and focusing on the sensation of warm water spreading and warming his arm. "She uh… that's not a happy story."

The woman paused for a moment, perhaps also giving an expression of sympathy before lowering his arm. "Sorry to hear that," she sympathized, and Minato heard her body shifting until she was one the other side of him. "Let's try to keep this from being gloomy. What's your name?"

"What's yours?" Minato shot back, barely able to fight the smirk threatening to form from the imaginary look he pictured was on her face.

More shifting, softly this time. Minato assumed that perhaps she shrugged her shoulders before speaking, "Yui."

"Namae wa Minato desu (my name is Minato)," Minato introduced himself.

"Ooh," Yui seemed intrigued, coming to a complete stop to say, "you can speak our old tongue too! I haven't heard that in years."

"Yeah, rare for me too," Minato opened his eyes, turning his head to his left arm that had a hand idly remaining on.

Yui instantly caught on to the meaning, apologizing as she took his arm and dipped the sponge back into the water. "Even those that remember it can't really speak it anymore," she pointed out, "where are you from?"

Minato laughed, "From? That obvious, am I?"

"Like a fish out of the water," Yui giggled, giving his arm a few more strokes from the sponge before lowering it back down. From there, she moved directly behind him, taking the sponge but now letting the streams of water fall on his head. "Besides, I'd remember someone as cute as you."

Minato scoffed, but only weakly as he soon felt her delicate fingers massaging his scalp. Feeling them move around in circles and running through his hair instantly put him at ease, making him lean further backward, almost coming into contact with the woman behind him.

"I'm not that… not that…" he couldn't even finish his sentence.

She paused and Minato could swear she was smirking at him because the next words that left her mouth were a teasing, "you like that, don't you?"

Minato nodded, closing his eyes so that he could focus on the sensation again. Fortunately for him, Yui didn't like to torture him too much and she quickly resumed her actions. Between this and what it was likey leading to, he was going to be here a while.

* * *

Akira rose from the dirt, only to find a blanket of dust surrounding him. Beside him were Crow and Mona, both having been knocked unconscious from the attack.

Rubbing his eyes, he could just barely see past the shroud. Everything around him was reduced to rubble from the creature's attack, causing the dust clouding the area.

Sinking his heart was the too familiar sound of rattling chains approaching. His body was screaming as he tried moving again, and instead, he fell to the ground once more.

It's hopeless—he was too injured to move, much less fight that thing again. Lying on the ground, he could only listen to the rattling getting closer and closer.

He had to admit—this wasn't how he imagined that he would go out. Everyone around him was either dead or unconscious, leaving him alone to die. If he was lucky, then he will be torn into enough pieces that he would be unrecognizable so that his friends would be safe.

Alone, scared, and knowing what's coming—is that what _she_ felt too? He was too stupid to see it then, letting her suffer all by herself until the end.

"No," he hacked, moaning, hissing, and screaming in agony. Forcing his body to obey him, Akira stood himself up again as the chains began drawing near. He wasn't going to let what happened then be for nothing.

Another hagged cough escaped, forcing him back on his knees as he felt vertigo settling in, contorting the world around him.

"What are you doing out of bed?" A voice interrupted, snapping him back to reality?

"Huh?" Akira blinked—he was no longer in the cold streets staring up at that monster, but instead, he was at some sort of shelter and was now face-to-face with Takemi. Surrounding him was an innumerable amount of people; some were on beds and others were on the ground using whatever could be improvised at the moment.

Takemi wasn't listening to any excuse he might have had. She took him by his shoulders, forcing him to lie back down on the bed.

He was too weak to resist. Every muscle in his body felt sore, and an unescapable chill began crawling up his spine. Noticing his shivering, the doctor placed her hand on his forehead, "you're running a fever."

"Great," Akira attempted to express some more dry sarcasm, only for it to come out as another weary groan. "Have you—" he was interrupted when a sudden hack escaped his lips. The force was so great that he was almost immediately sitting up straight, feeling like he would cough up his lung next. Even Tae grew concerned, gently grasping him, perhaps believing that he would roll off his bed once more.

When the coughing settled, leaving the boy a panting mess, he was able to relax on the bed again. Taking rapid breaths, Akira was determined to finish his sentence, "Where are… my glasses?"

"Huh?" Takemi seemed surprised at the mention before kneeling down to where Akira couldn't see at this angle, reappearing with glasses in hand. "I think these are yours," she said, carefully sliding them back on his face. "Why do you wear them anyway? You seem to see just fine."

"Gift," he answered as well as his scratchy throat would allow him, "they were a gift."

A gift from someone he failed a long time ago…

* * *

Saki emerged from the room, beaming and bouncing in the air.

"Someone looks happy," she turned to her head to find Minato leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, apparently having been waiting on her for some time.

"Uh-huh," she affirmed, tilting her head once she noticed that his hair looked slightly dampened as well. "Did you take a bath too?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, only to wince once he felt the fabrics of his shirt brush against his shoulder.

"You okay?" she expressed genuine concern; it was a strange thing to hear after having been on his own for so long.

Minato nodded, rubbing his shoulder and muttering, "mine was a biter."

The girl gave him a few more confused looks but didn't press it. Instead, as they were exiting the building, she continued bouncing in the air as she recounted what had happened.

Minato furrowed his brow for a moment, "wait, so they gave you a _bubble-bath?_ " When was the last time he even heard the term bubble-bath, much less seen/taken one?

"Uh-huh," she giggled, recounting how the bath maid had put a strange liquid into the water before it suddenly became bubbly from the soapsuds forming. "They were really fun!"

"Yeah, I know—" Minato cut himself off, feeling an unfamiliar sensation set in. It was like a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, accompanied by a dull pressure in the air around him, weighing him down.

" ** _He's here."_**

"Saki, listen to me right now," Minato's voice was grave, instantly grabbing her attention, "I need you to—"

"Going somewhere?" An echoing voice spoke, and Minato's heart sank.

Turning his head, Minato saw it—a small insect dancing in the air, taunting him. The creature was colored an unearthly shade of black, standing out beside the white blankets of snow.

The outside world fell silent, allowing only the faint sound of beating wings as the creature continued dancing in the air. Minato could only watch as it slowly passed him, eyeing it like a hawk.

A faint chuckle pierced the air, and it was only then that Minato noticed the three others standing across the street from him. The one leading the posse took a step forward, clutching a sheathed katana in his right hand.

It was too late to run, especially with that butterfly around, watching them. Behind the man in the mask were two followers, each donning masks of their own; black and white for the woman and man respectively.

The only thing Minato could do was push the girl behind him, drawing his sword as the figure approached them.

"Long have I waited/for this great advent to come/" the man spoke, slightly outstretching his arms, forming a smirk that no mask could hide. Behind the lenses of his mask, one could see just the faintest flares from his amber eyes, "Hello, Minato."

* * *

 **Okay, I got this out. I need to focus on DFW again. I've neglected that for far too long. Then again, this is me, so that probably won't go as planned either.**

 **Oh, I forgot! Thanks to Wes0 a.k.a Rwes, you can now see what Older!Minato and Saki look like if you're curious!**

sta. sh/010b82mr36c7

Sta. sh/0n9g70926n5

sta. sh/0ns8edvru3w

 **Thanks Wes, you're the best!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Oh, yeah, I'm still here. Went through a few things, lost a dear friend of mine due to stupid decisions I made, and landed myself in therapy. Needless to say, reality's been a bitch.**

* * *

Minato's eyes remained focusing on the butterfly dancing around them. It said nothing, instead choosing to continue circling them like a harmless insect, but there was no question as to who or _what_ that was.

"What's wrong?" The man's question was less of an inquiry and more of an insult, "don't tell you're afraid of insects now."

This wasn't the time or place to lose his nerve. He didn't just have his life to think about now; one wrong move and it could be the end of hers as well. Although, it would be foolish to believe that this would show clemency and let them leave unmolested if he did nothing.

Whoever this man is, he's holding a katana in his _right_ hand. Either this is a false sign that he meant no harm, or it was a sign that he was _left-handed_. If that was true, then he would have the edge in close-quarters. Combine that with whatever abilities Nyarlathotep gave him, then this is likely a fight he _doesn't_ want, at least not now.

Behind the leader, a woman and another man were wearing similar outfits, albeit with their masks having a single color of black and white respectively. There were a few minute differences between the three of them; their leader seemed to possess a twin tailcoat, while the woman in the black mask has hers ending in a skirt similar to a dress.

The one with a white mask had a sword at his left hip. The sword looked western―was a foreigner or someone who needed a hand free during combat? Perhaps he was like him and it was a mere matter of personal preference. Either way, the sword being secured at his left marks him as right-handed like most combatants.

There were a few knives scattered throughout his frame, the most visible one being on his left shoulder. They looked too small to be reliably used in close quarters against an armed opponent―a knife-thrower, he has to be.

The woman in black had no such easy marks. By all accounts, it would appear as if she had arrived completely unarmed. Unless she was suicidal, she was concealing whatever she may have until the right time or perhaps her talents lied with her persona rather than her talents as a combatant.

 _"So these are Nyarlathotep's lapdogs?"_ Minato mused. They don't look too threatening, but in circumstances like this, he wouldn't trust appearances alone, especially when it came to people.

It's too risky to start a fight now. For now, he would have to endure whatever idle boasts they felt like spouting until he could find a way to get Saki out of here.

"Who the hell are you?" Asking for a name was natural and a simple question. Referring to someone solely by their title was going to become pestiferous very quickly.

Chuckling, the man tilted his head saying, "Oh, I think you already know the answer to that." He continued to hum, bobbing his head from side to side as if thinking to himself, "most refer to me as Yamato. I suppose that will do."

 _"So, not his real name,"_ Minato would have sighed in exasperation if he was in a position to risk angering him. He can't stay on the defensive either, lest he risks cluing him into what he's doing. "Yeah, yeah, very mysterious. What? Did you come here to sound mystical and waste my time?"

"So impatient," Yamoto tsked, "but I understand, fatherhood must be stressful."

 _"Chikushou (crap)!"_ That's not good―now his attention is back to her. There was no getting her out of this now.

If he knows about her, then he has to know about _him_ too. "So, that's why you're here? To pick up after that old bastard?"

Yamoto scoffed, seemingly offended at the suggestion, "him? I have been wondering why Ikutsuki has not expired yet to be perfectly honest." Shaking his head, he continued, "I thought it was time we were introduced to one another properly."

Minato blinked, "you hunted me down from your hole in Kyoto for an _introduction?_ " That was certainly a first, at least, the first one that was so blatant.

"That, and a little game."

 _"Oh, no."_ Minato summoned his sword, eyes gleaming and prepared to summon. If there's a game, then there's a 'prize,' and there's only one prize that he knows that he'd fight for. "Stay away from her."

"Good, you figured it out," Yamato sounded pleased, "rest assured, *I* won't participate. Killing you now would be… anti-climatic, so to speak." He glanced back, tilting his head as a gesture to his followers, "I think it's time my dog had some exercise."

"Dog?" Minato raised an eyebrow until he noticed he noticed the one in the white mask approaching and drawing his blade.

"Of course," Yamato continued speaking as the other man passed him, "poor Lupine doesn't get to go out much. I thought it was time he had _some_ sort of playmate."

"Lupine?" Minato repeated as the man stopped his advance, standing just far enough away that a short dash was all that would be necessary to close the remaining distance, "your parents must have hated you."

Lupine said nothing, not even giving so much as a gesture in response. "Oh, don't bother," Yamato warned, "he lost his voice ages ago. He's been my silent companion ever since."

 _"So, a mute?"_ Minato thought. That might have been pitiable under any other circumstances.

No voice means no banter. No banter means there's no point in insults―it'll be too difficult to tell if anything would be causing him to lose focus or not. The only thing he would accomplish would be wasting their time and potentially leaving himself open.

Lupine―a word relating to wolves. It was probably just a name given to him since he was a mute, or maybe Yamato didn't care for whatever his real one might have been. Wolves were good trackers; was he the one who managed to pin him down? Not impossible, but far too large of a conclusion to draw on his name alone―it's far more likely it's just an insult than a description.

There's a slight hunch in his stance, but subtle enough that it's nothing that Minato could draw any conclusions from. That mask concealing his face made him difficult to read, although the tilt of his head could be used to follow his gaze… directly at the girl behind the bluenette.

His gaze shifted from the girl to him, slighting tilting his head as a gesture. Was this a warning, or a taunt? Whatever the case, he was right.

"Saki," Minato called out to the girl, dropping the large bag in the snow, not daring to turn his head away from the masked man, "if you can, take that bag. Either way, I need you to run right _now_."

He couldn't see the look on her face, only hearing a few grunts as she tried lifting the bag. All he could do was keep his focus on the enemy in front of him who seemed content waiting for the girl's departure.

Saki could be heard exhaling a few strained breaths, more than likely having difficulty holding something so heavy but still managing to ask, "B-but… where do I…?"

"Anywhere but here," he ordered, "don't stop for anyone. Don't trust anyone. I'll find you when this is over."

"But…"

"Go!" He growled, earning a brief gasp from the girl.

More strained sounds came from the little one, this time accompanied by footsteps that grew further and further away until all that could be heard by him was the sound of the wind and his own breathing.

Good, she's safe―or at least, safer than if she remained here. Now, he could concentrate on him.

There's still a short dash between them; that leaves him with a short window to react to whatever he does first. Starting with a persona would be risky―too many unknowns in regards to him and what he might be hiding.

Lupine's feet remained firmly planted on the ground, unmoving and waiting, drawing this seemingly into some sort of staring match. If all the focus was on them…

The sound of crackling filled the air as an icy pillar rose and wailed, rising behind and piercing not the figure standing across from him, but Nyarlathotep's so-called champion.

Yamato looked down at the would-be instrument of his doom, and Minato saw with every movement that the ice had gone through him yet hadn't _touched_ him. It had passed through like a blade through the air.

"Hmm," Yamato shrugged, "while I applaud your pragmatism, did you really think I would be foolish enough to come here personally? I have far more important matters than _you._ "

Well, shit...

Minato was quick to return his attention to the figure now charging at him. Relying on pure instinct, he sidestepped an overhead strike, allowing it to land on the snow beneath them.

But Lupine seemed to have anticipated this, as he was able to quickly halt his momentum before almost throwing himself at the bluenette, ramming his shoulder into him and causing him to slide on the ground, throwing him off balance.

Lupine was determined to keep Minato on his feet. There was hardly any time to breathe before he charged at Minato again, unleashing a flurry of attacks.

His strikes were wild but quick, unpredictable, and had a surprising amount of strength behind them. One after the next, Minato scarcely managed to block the attacks, each one sending him another step back.

Too strong and too fast—it was foolish to take his eyes off of him.

Minato moved to block the attack, but this one was slippery; the blade managed to slide through his guard, slicing into his shoulder.

Hissing through his teeth, Minato felt the attack cutting into his flesh, spilling his blood and painting his hoodie red.

Painful, for sure—but this wasn't the first time he'd been injured. More importantly, the attack left an opening.

As the blade was cutting into his shoulder, Minato used the pommel of his own sword, striking it at his opponent's head.

Lupine recoiled from the strike, sending him backward. It wasn't enough to force to break his mask, but it had disoriented him.

This gave Minato ample to return the favor. Before Lupine could recover, Minato attacked, slicing across his torso. It was hardly more than a flesh wound but that was good enough.

The only sound made by the 'dog' was a weak growl as he stumbled back before catching himself, seemingly not too bothered by the wound inflicted upon him. Tilting his head, Minato watching him recover, taking notice of his eyes—or rather, the lack of visible eyes. Interesting.

Wild but swift strikes that hard difficult to predict—great, it's fighting Sho for the first time all over again. At least there was no Minazuki to complicate things this time.

"Hmm," Minato hummed in thought, briefly wincing as he moved his shoulder. Enough thinking—it was time to act.

The two opponents raised their weapons, locking eye with each other. Under the watchful gaze of Nyarlathotep's champion, they charged.

"Rin," Yamoto spoke, watching the two warriors clash. The masked woman turned her head towards him, listening intently. "Be ready to find the girl."

"Aw," she pouted, no doubt making puffy lips beneath her mask, "Doggie gets all the fun and I get babysitting."

"Hehe," Yamato chuckled, his voice so low that only he could hear it. If things went as he expected, she would have her 'fun' in a few moments. Before that, his dog needed some exercise.

* * *

"Yeah, yeah," Akira brushed off the doctor's words, standing from his bed—or whatever you were supposed to call this contraction of torn fabrics with broken pieces of metal inside. Ah well, beggars can't be choosers.

"Akira," Takemi called out his name in another futile effort to have him listen to her words, "We still don't know the extent of the damage to your lungs."

"Good thing I don't run marathons then," Akira muttered through a stifled cough, another act of betrayal from his body. "If I get any worse, I'll let you know. Focus less on me and more on the—whatever-number of people got caught in this mess."

A gesture wasn't necessary. Akira was just one of many patients held in this pseudo-trauma center, with many of the ones surrounding him unable to do so much as walking on their own.

Too many people in critical condition for him to let Takemi worry about him. The place was understaffed as-is; the bastards couldn't spare the time, resources, and/or manpower to deal with the vagrants or the poor.

Who knows, maybe they'll go on about the crippling damage they suffered, too. They'll find any excuse for this little act of Darwinism. If things were this bad here, Akira didn't _want_ to think about what the situation must be in the more devastated regions.

Takemi wanted to argue, naturally, but she knew that he was right. At the very least, it was unlikely that he was going to drop dead in the next couple of hours. By the end of it, she made sure to give him a list of precautions that he should take while he began wondering which of those he was going to ignore first.

 _"Don't do anything stupid,"_ was the first one to come to mind. Here he was, trying to leave against medical advice.

Maybe Sojiro had a point; with the number of foolish things he does, he really _does_ deserve the acts of cruelty his 'friends' give him. Oh, and after what he did, Oracle was going to _kill_ him. Or worse, maybe she'll ask **_Queen_** to do it.

Such a thought sent a shiver down the boy's spine as he continued wobbling his way out, entering what seemed to be a waiting area for those who had family here. He'd been able to see a few of the patients receive visits, most going on about how difficult it was due to them being unable to verify their IDs for some asinine reason or five.

If he had to guess, he would say the _real_ reason was either that they didn't want to show just how dire things were, or they just wanted another chance to screw with people. It's not like either of those would be out of character.

"Akira!"

 _"Oh crap,"_ he swallowed a lump in his throat. Here he thought that he'd at least have an hour or so before he was murdered, but apparently, Lady Luck wasn't with him today.

A deep exhale quickly became a long drawn out groan. Turning towards the voice, he saw that it was just Mona—his not-a-cat—that had somehow found a way to sneak inside with his head slightly poking out of the bag that Akira usually carried on his person.

Did Morgana find a way to sneak himself _and_ that bag inside without being noticed? _"Wow,"_ Akira thought, _"that's one sneaky kitty."_

The bag was just one of many, thankfully. There were enough people crowding that no one batted an eye when Akira grabbed the bag and turned to leave. Fortunately, there were bag inspections going _into_ the building but none coming _out._

Whatever strength that had been keeping the boy standing, however, was waning and he soon found himself nearly collapsing against the wall the moment he reached the outdoors.

Before he could speak, another dry cough erupted from his throat. Covering his mouth with one hand, Akira placed his other on his bag, pulling the zipper and opening it slightly more to reveal his feline friend.

"You okay?"

"Mona," his voice came out hoarse, causing an uncomfortable sensation on his throat, "I feel awful."

"You _look_ awful."

"Hey," Akira looked somewhat offended, "at least I have a great personal—" his childish sarcasm was interrupted by another cough.

The boy was left panting, closing his eyes with the back of his head against the building. The cold hair felt worse than usual with his body breaking into a cold sweat.

Leaving against medical advice was proving to be a horrible idea. Go figure.

"How's everyone… else…?" he managed to get out.

"Ann and Ryuji are fine. They're lucky that… thing didn't reach their homes," Mona was quick to answer, instantly lessening the load on the boy's shoulders, "as for Makoto and Futaba…"

Akira winced, "I'm dead, aren't I?"

"I'll make sure you get a decent burial."

"That reminds me," Akira turned his head, "so, you managed to sneak in?"

"Well, of course," Mona proclaimed proudly in that haughty tone of his, "such an obstacle was nothing to this Phantom Th—"

"But you had no idea when I was going to leave," he pointed out, interrupting the cat, "how long were you there?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Wow," Akira motioned his hands, performing a slow clap, "truly, you are a criminal mastermind. May the world tremble before you, and your unparalleled cunning."

"You're the one who ended up in a hospital!"

"Yeah," Akira nodded, "and I saved the day. Kinda. Sorta. Okay, not really but I did hurt it."

Mona scoffed, rolling his eyes before spitting, "yeah, I wonder who healed you…"

"Yeah, I feed you. Your life belongs to me, kitty-cat," he grinned.

The feline opened his mouth to speak, only to be met with the sound of the raven-haired boy's stomach rumbling. Between now and the last fight, he hadn't had much time to eat anything decent outside of whatever garbage they decided to serve.

Mona seemed to be at least somewhat sympathetic, at least, Akira assumed so judging by his tone when he said, "think we could afford to order some pancakes or something somewhere?"

Akira might've laughed had he not been reminded of the roughness in his throat."You're the one in the bag. You tell me."

Pancakes, what were those again? If he had to guess, they were those weird flappy things that he sometimes saw being served to some of the upper class (or whatever you would call them). That sounds about right to the boy.

For some reason, he doubted that he had enough cards to afford breakfast for himself. Even if he did, he didn't want to think about the labor that was necessary for it to happen. In that case, he should probably skip visiting Haru anytime soon—she would probably not give him a choice.

"Ugh," Akira groaned, "she's almost as bad s _you,_ Mona."

"Huh?"

"Nothing." It was best not to draw any attention to _that_ for her sake. That was another matter he was going to need to settle one of these days but not today.

 _"Streets are packed,"_ Akira thought, watching the countless people; some were walking out with a limp, and others in tears. Those not trying to visit the makeshift emergency hospital were still affected after the damage The Reaper left in its wake.

Getting through all of this was going to take forever. Luckily, the subway wasn't far from here.

"Mona, we're taking the shortcut," he announced, grabbing the 'Mona-bag' and dragging his feet.

Morgana crawled out some more, exposing enough of his body that his head was resting on the boy's shoulder. "Is that a good idea?" he asked, "you're a mess!"

"Too many people to just drive home," Akira shrugged, "besides, keeping an eye on me is your job, remember? You'll keep me safe."

The boy's words did nothing to soothe his feline friend, only learning more objections that fell on deaf ears until the cat had no choice but to accept it. Once Akira's mind was made up about something, it was nearly impossible to convince him otherwise.

No, instead, it was Mona's job to babysit the dullard and make sure that he didn't need to go to a hospital a _second_ time.

Luckily, the trip went smoothly. One of the few benefits of all this chaos was that there were so many people that it was easy to blend in. There was nothing to see; just another survivor still coughing his lungs out from all the dust and debris he inhaled.

Perhaps he was a relative of the woman crying in front of what _used_ to be her home?

The brother of the kids hearing the last words of their father fading away beneath a pile of rubble?

What about those delinquents? Where there's chaos, there was an opportunity to extort or 'punish' others while the uniforms were busy. They could dress up just like him, waiting for the right opportunity to jump an unsuspecting target.

Fortunately, they arrived at their destination—an old subway station—without incident.

No one uses these anymore; some tunnels are collapsed and they weren't worth the maintenance to keep functioning. Besides, a population was easier to control when they had fewer means of getting around.

There wasn't anything _stopping_ one from entering, however. It was merely just ill-advised due to the possible hazards. Of course, that applied to _regular_ people.

It was a hard thing to describe, despite spending months pondering it. If he focused enough, visible ripples would form in the air and the world would begin to warp around him. The sky would turn a deep red as drops of pink would begin to fall from the sky even if there wasn't a cloud in sight.

Buildings would contort, twisting into various unnatural shapes, some even spiraling. But more notably, other structures seemingly made of bone would erect from the ground. There were various points where these bone structures would begin before ascending higher and higher, almost like they were a flight of stairs leading to something.

Despite this, there was nothing the structure lead to—at least, not visibly from the ground. Either it was hidden from their view on the ground, or this unrevealed structure simply had not formed yet.

Regardless, the topside was filled with more of Yaldabaoth's shadows. Fighting one would risk drawing attention from an entire hoard—too risky.

The subway, however, was different; the system underwent the same warping as the rest of the world, yet this had the added bonus of making even some of the collapsed tunnels to be traversable.

There were dangers, of course. Shadows were crawling in here as well, but that was another oddity of this place. When Mona first introduced him to this place, it was made clear that—for whatever reason—these shadows seemed to operate independently from the rest. The entirety of the Phantom Thieves had practiced using their personas down here, yet the rest of the world seems to be none the wiser, even after all this time.

What this means was lost on everyone. What this _world_ was was lost on everyone. It seemed to be similar to the strange hour that occurred at midnight, but its effect was on an even grander scale.

So many unknowns, but for now, they weren't on the top of Akira's priority list.

"All right, now—Aaah!" Mona was interrupted by his screams when Akira grabbed him by his tail, tossing the screeching animal into the air for him to transform into a large van.

Akira laughed to himself as he opened the driver's door, "never knew that your tail was so sensitive."

"If you ever do that again…"

"Please, I'm already dead," Akira brushed it off, although made a mental note to be a little more careful of his handing in the future, "I'm just enjoying my last hour."

How was this hour going to end, he found himself wondering. Would he encounter a super shadow that'd eat him alive, or would Queen find him and tear him a new one repeatedly? Which would he prefer?

 _"Meh,"_ Akira found himself shrugging. Everyone goes out somehow.

* * *

Minato's eyes widened in surprise before stepping to the side, nearly avoiding an inferno that _he_ had sent his opponent's way.

Lupine saw his window of opportunity and dashed forward. No matter how skilled the warrior, it only took one mistake to bring them down. Whenever he stumbled, he would be there to punish him.

But all war was fought with deception; a few overdone trips and a brief moment of letting his guard down was all it took.

Closing the distance, Lupine lunged with another high strike; his goal was clearly to push him further back just as he did before.

Before the blow could connect, Minato was already countering. Raising his own sword, Minato intercepted Lupine's attack by blocking with the flat end of the blade.

Using the momentum of Lupine's assault against him, Minato brought his sword down on top of him. What could only be described as raspy borderline animalistic growls and shrieks of pain escaped Lupine's throat as his blood was spilling on the ground.

The sense of pain seemed to drive Lupine into a sort of feral frenzy. Pushing through the agonizing pain, Lupine launched his fist at the bluenette's cheek.

Despite the blow, Minato was able to defend himself against Lupine's continued assault; his slashes were wilder than before, ignoring any pain screaming for his body to stop.

Fortunately, Minato had an ace in case a situation like this were to occur. So driven by his frenzy, Lupine had failed to notice the shadow of the persona above them.

Striking the dog with hi scabbard, Yoshitsune launched him several feet away before slashing into the air. Red lines began circling the hooded figure before phantom blades made their attack, leaving a trail of red in their wake.

More bloodcurdling screams erupted from the creature's throat and the ground around him was painted crimson. The pain sent him down on his knees and wheezing in a pool of his own blood.

"Wow," Minato scoffed, lowering his guard and standing up straight—he wasn't going to be fighting anymore like that, "that kills most _shadows,_ but you're still alive?"

As expected, there was no response from his opponent. However, even beneath the mask that completely hid his face, Minato could tell he was glaring at him.

 _"No persona,"_ Minato made a mental note. During the entire fight, Lupine never once used a persona against him. Despite that, he managed to reflect a few of his spells right back at him a few times, yet dodged others.

This isn't consistent with persona-resistances. Could it be his mask? He never used a persona and that's the only notable object that he had. It might be similar to the mirrors, only instead of being one-use, it would go on a sort of recharging state.

That must have been a difficult thing to create. The only reason to have an item like that would be to make up for some inherent weakness. Did he not _have_ a persona?

"Great," Minato muttered, "another Sho sit—"

Minato paused when he saw Lupine moving again, slowly positioning his legs to support himself before standing up on his feet again. The blood that had been flowing from his many wounds had ceased as if his body had already had time to recover.

Despite this, even from this distance, Minato could make out his raspy breaths, each one sounding more labored than the last and his posture was more hunched over; clearly, exhaustion was setting in. He was healing from something, but not fully.

"The hell?"

Before he could ponder it further, another voice interrupted, "Oh, Minato," Yamato called out to him, "I trust you haven't forgotten the little one, have you?"

Beneath his mask, Yamato couldn't help but smile at the look of shock from both of them, especially Minato's shocked expression as his eyes darted the area only to realize one from the trio was missing.

There was something cathartic about how easy it was to break his composure. To think, he was merely spectating this entire time. He must have not been used to taking care of someone other than himself—or maybe he thought the attention would fall squarely on him if he played along.

 _"Ah, such foolishness,"_ the poem was already forming in his mind, _"you destroy all that you touch/Does she even know?"_

"You better hurry," Yamato teased as he watched the man run in the last direction he saw the girl, "you just might make it."

 _"I know your secret/we know what you did that day/what you can't forget. How long I wonder?/will you let their fate be shared?/on the next full moon?"_

* * *

Saki continued to groan, almost dragging the bag behind her. Mr. Arisato hadn't had a chance to get everything he wanted, only the 'bare essentials' as he called them. Otherwise, the bag might have become too cumbersome for her to carry entirely.

Where was she going?

All of her surroundings were beginning to look the same. Had she passed them before but was too panicked to notice? How many turns has she made?

When can she stop running? He said not to stop, but the bag was so heavy and her feet still hurt from the journey here.

Was he okay? He was preparing for a fight before sending her away, but what if he's hurt? What were they going to do to him?

What was she supposed to do? She was all alone again. How long did she have?

How long until she's surrounded again? No one was here to save her this time; it won't be long until she ends up as _they_ did.

No one but her remembers their faces when the monsters came for them. No one but her was there to hear their screams echoing throughout the halls.

No one was going to remember her. No one was going to care, just like no one cared to remember them. Their memory of her friends—her family—would die with her.

Such thoughts were the only ones occupying her mind when she fell backward, closing her hides from the intense brightness from the wall of flames that had risen before her.

"Now, now…"

Looking behind her, Saki saw one of the masked figures approaching her. This was slimmer than the other two, having a more feminine frame and voice.

Her voice was teasing as she approached, "there's no need to run, sweetie."

The entirety of her form was covered in a deep black, the sole exception being her green eyes peeking out the slits of her mask.

Though her voice was lucid, her body movements were more haphazard. If one were to focus on her skirt, they would notice that she was dragging her feet instead of stepping. The only other time Saki had seen or done this is when someone was sleepy, or mad and being punished.

What sort of person would do this?

Why is the woman treating this like the time she had stayed up past bedtime with her friends?

Why would anyone want to hurt her—hurt them? The same people who they looked up to, and watch out the windows wondering when they were going to deliver their next batch of gifts.

Who would love them for so long, and then forsake them to die?

Another set of footsteps, as loud as they were swift. The woman notices them too, stopping in her tracks and listening. The woman's posture stiffened; her breath became caught in her throat before easing into a soft exhale.

The steps stopped, but the woman remained still. An eerie silence began to linger, spreading, and enveloping the entirety of the area in its grip. The only sound that Saki could hear was that of her own breathing.

Breaking the silence was a deafening explosion engulfing the area in smoke, effectively rendering the girl blind. The only thing she could see was the silhouette of two shadows dancing.

Using the smog as cover, Minato dashed forward, passing the woman and quickly placing himself between her and the girl. Despite the blackened air, their eyes locked to one another almost instantly, giving them more than enough time to react to the other's next move.

Minato was the first to strike; he swung his sword with intent. Either it would kill her on the spot, or drive her away.

Dodging to the side, Rin was able to narrowly evade the blade. Hissing through her teeth, she clenched her hand, summoning a dagger. Strong or not, one stab to the side would be critical.

But sometimes, risks had to be taken. The moment Minato felt the blade piercing through his flesh, he secured a firm grip of her wrist.

Rin had barely a moment to process what he had done before she felt the pommel of his sword smashing into her mask, cracking a portion and exposing the right corner of her face.

Dazed, Rin summoned another knife in her off-hand, forcing the bluenette to release her lest he risks another injury he cannot afford.

The smoke was swirling around them as their dance continued, neither able to land a decisive blow on the other. Attack after attack, evasion after evasion—the only result was a few minor cuts on each side.

But the smoke was beginning to dissipate. What had once been an even match was becoming more and more one-sided and in the bluenette's favor. Rin was fast and agile, but as the fight continued, he was pushing further and further on the defensive, giving no opportunity to do anything but evade.

Realizing her predicament, Rin turned her own power on herself, launching herself into the air to gain distance. It was the same as admitting defeat and they both knew it; she couldn't win this fight against him, nor could he continue fighting her.

That knowledge did nothing to stop her from delivering one last attack, condensing the air around them until they took the form of blades that she could launch. The distance was too much for the attack to land, however. Erecting a sheet of ice to form as a barrier was the only necessary countermeasure, breaking the line of sight long enough that he could reach the girl and his bag by the time the wall shattered.

Landing on her feet with the shards falling all around her, Rin saw no trace of them beside a few footprints that had been left during their confrontation.

Humming to himself, Yamato tilted his head to the side, "Disappointing." Too many injuries for so little gain. Out of practice? A sacrifice so he could not make an accurate assessment? Or was that seal beginning to take its toll on him; its chains had been loosening somewhat these past few years.

"He must've kept one of those teleportation gems," Rin surmised.

"Oh?" So she survived too? Surprising. Protection was on his mind more than elimination—he would need to make note of that. But what if one was required for the other?

This endeavor was proving to be far more of a waste than he had hoped. Still, the introduction was long overdue. His attention will be on protecting that little chit of his for now, so he won't be a problem as long as he's kept under control.

Hmm, but that redhead wasn't with him. _That_ will be troublesome when they find each other. Another one of Ikustuki's failures—he was going to need to rid himself of that old man soon. The only thing he's done for him is provided him with his dog.

Speaking of which…

Turning his head, Yamato could see Lupine still on his knees, wheezing and focusing almost entirely on his own breathing. The degradation was beginning to hit his peak, it would seem.

"It would seem he has eluded you, my _Little Wolf._ " It was difficult to fight the chuckle threatening to escape when the dog seemed to cower at those words. "Now, now, it's my negligence that caused your failure. I'll allow it."

If he was relieved by his assurance, the dog didn't show it.

"But let's not dwell on that," Yamato kneeled down, leaning in slightly closer to his pet, "dogs are adept trackers, yes? Then find him. I would hate for him to ever assume that we have forgotten him."

Lupine did not so much as nod his head but it was unnecessary. Refusing was never an option before, and it would not be one now.

Satisfied, Yamato stood up from the ground, glancing back at the woman behind him. "Rin, make sure Lupine is taken care of. I'm not in the market for a new pet."

He did not care to see what reaction she might have had; there were far more pressing matters to contend with. Letting in someone like Minato? What sort of punishment befitted the crime, he wondered.

* * *

"Get up! Get up!"

Disturbing Minato were the girl's little arms shaking him, her voice reaching his ears in a desperate attempt to wake him from his slumber.

With a groan, Minato raised a hand, waving her away. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he muttered, opening his eyes to be greeted by a familiar rundown house and a girl with tears in her eyes. Her lip was trembling like her knees, her breathing was fast almost to the point of hyperventilating.

Not good. It looks like she is on the verge of a panic attack. He needs to find a way to calm her down _fast_.

"Hey, hey, hey," calling out to her, Minato placed his hands on the girl's shoulders, ignoring the pain he felt from his wounds, "listen to me. Can you hear me? Don't talk—just nod."

The tears kept streaming down her face. For a moment, Minato was afraid that she was so far in that his words couldn't reach her. But then, between the choked breaths, she began moving her head up and down, confirming she could hear his voice.

"I need you to listen to me carefully, okay?" he asked, cupping her face in his hands. "Take a deep breath and slowly count to four. Can you do that?"

Saki tried to obey, only to find herself choking on her own breath again. But Minato was patient, assuring her that she was doing great and to just keep concentrating, suggesting that she could try thinking of a happy memory if it would help.

Closing her eyes, she began reliving an old memory. The earliest one she had was of a woman whose face was a blur no matter how hard she tried to remember. The only thing she could remember about her face was the tears.

Saki was small then—very small. Even still, she could remember the woman holding her close with her arms wrapped around her, never wanting to let go. The woman was so sad, yet there was a tenderness that Saki could never forget.

She really wishes she could remember who she was.

Opening her eyes, Saki found herself greeted by Minato letting out a relieved exhale. Looking at her surroundings, she asked, "where are we?"

"Somewhere I hate being, but always end up needing to go to," Minato answered, shaking his head. Standing up straight, he found himself wincing at his wounds. Healing was never his forte, but a few love taps like that weren't going to be what does him in.

 ** _"Hehe,"_** Death continued chuckling as Minato felt a familiar sense of longing within these rundown walls, **_"Welcome home, Minato."_**

* * *

 **OC villains... I've found my track record can be hit or miss. You know, I was once told that I can't write a character that's not sympathetic in some way. I mean, Makoto in AT and DFW were sympathetic in some way, whether it's been raised/groomed into a sociopathic monster or a grieving boy just wanting his nightmares to end.**

 **Well, meet Yamato. There's no sob story. There's no, "maybe he can change!" Oh no, no, no, no! I'll show you just what happens when I _want_ someone to be a cruel, completely unlikable bastard.**


End file.
